


A Sky Full Of Lightning

by bethejerktomybitch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, BAMF Allison Argent, Banshee Lydia Martin, Derek Deserves Nice Things, Derek Has Feelings, Derek Has Issues, Derek Needs a Hug, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fights, Hurt Derek Hale, Major Original Character(s), McCall Pack, Omega Derek Hale, Original Character has powers, Other Pack(s), Peter gets punched in the face, Post-Season/Series 03A, Protective Derek, Scott needs a break, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Torture, mostly Derek/OFC centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 63
Words: 91,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethejerktomybitch/pseuds/bethejerktomybitch
Summary: Skye is just looking for a place to lay low after spending years hunting down the man who killed her family. What she finds instead is a grumpy, distrustful and devastatingly handsome werewolf who she just seems to keep running into. But it isn’t until the pack is threatened by a mysterious group who call themselves The Scavengers that Skye finds herself being sucked into the supernatural mess of Beacon Hills, while her past slowly threatens to catch up with her.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first longer fic on this side! It is simultaneously my first longer fic in English, which is not my first language, so I hope it's not too full of horrible mistakes. I started writing it when I rewatched Teen Wolf and thought to myself "Man, Derek really deserves some love". I've already written about ten chapters, so updates will be pretty regular and I will try to keep it that way.  
> I hope you enjoy it and leave some comments behind!

The woman stood motionless.

 

She was more of a girl, really, not much older than twenty, and small, almost fragile, with long dark hair and vaguely Asian-looking features that did not betray a single emotion. Blood was trickling down her temple but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Her dark eyes were fixed on the pile of rubble that had once been her home.

 

For a moment, pain flickered over her face, but it was gone again in the blink of an eye, giving way to that perfect, almost eerie composure that people had always half-admired, half-feared in her mother.

 

The air around her was thick with dust and dirt, the shadows of the surrounding buildings illuminated red and blue by the police cars, and people were watching her curiously from where they stood scattered in small groups around the destroyed house, whispering to each other, eyes never leaving her still form.

 

“The poor girl.” a woman whispered to her husband. “Her whole family was in there. They say no one made it out.” The husband, older than his wife and with less sincere sympathy on his face, nodded and then asked: “Do they know what happened yet?” His wife shrugged, but another woman chimed in, her gaze nervously flickering between the girl, the house and the couple she was now talking to.

 

“Regina told me that they believe it was a bomb.” she said, her voice hushed and laced with something like excitement. “Someone did this on purpose.” “Well…” the husband murmured, not finishing his sentence, but it was clear to anyone listening what he’d meant. _They had it coming._

His wife shot him a disapproving glance, but before she could say anything, silence took over the group of spectators as they watched one of the policemen approach the girl.

 

“Miss Abernathy?”

 

She turned around abruptly, as if he’d startled her from a deep trance. “Yes?” she asked, the slight tremor in her voice giving away that she wasn’t as untouched by the whole incident as her face suggested.

 

The policeman gave her a sympathetic smile and hesitated for a second before he said: “I’m incredibly sorry for your loss and I know this must be very hard for you, but we need to ask you a few questions. It appears that the explosion was caused by a bomb someone planted in your house.”

 

She did not even flinch, as if she’d already known that this hadn’t been an accident, and the policeman seemed to be slightly taken aback for a moment before he continued. “I need you to tell me if there is anyone you can think of who might’ve wanted to hurt your family.”

 

The girl shook her head slowly, very slowly, and when she spoke, her voice was as calm and unmoved as her face.

 

“No. No one at all.”

 

* * *

 

 

The woman – and she was really a woman now, for any childish naiveté that had still remained on her face before had given way to a cold determination – stood motionless again, her back pressed against a wall and her fingers wrapped tightly around the guns in both her hands.

 

Her breathing was slow and steady, her face as perfectly composed as it had been the night her family was blown to pieces, and then, as if she’d been waiting for some undetectable sign, she raised her guns and kicked in the door to the old factory building she’d been waiting next to.

 

The people inside didn’t stand a chance. Bullet after bullet found its target, blue light illuminated the room as lightning seemed to spring from the woman’s hands, and she dodged hits and knifes with a sort of playful elegance, as if this was all a game to her. It took merely minutes before the ground was covered in blood and bodies and the woman stood victorious in the middle of it, with blood dripping from an already healing cut in her side and a smile on her face.

 

With slow, precise steps she walked across the room to the opposite wall where three computers stood. She plugged in an USB stick and typed a few commands with fingers that almost seemed to dance across the keyboard, and in a matter of minutes, she had what she wanted. She was already at the door, the USB stick stored away safely inside her jacket, when a sudden sound had her turn around again.

 

Not everyone on the ground was dead. There was one young man still alive, slowly, desperately crawling towards the door, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He was even younger than her, maybe eighteen or nineteen, and his face was that of a child, contorting in fear as she walked over to him.

 

For a brief, strange moment, they looked like children playing some bizarre game of catch, but then she put the barrel of her gun to his forehead and they were adults again, caught up in a war they were much too young for.

 

“Tell me where Victor Ford is.”

 

The woman’s voice was in no way threatening, but the gun to his head was enough to make him tremble in a mixture of fear and pain. “I don’t know.” he whimpered. “I swear I don’t know. Please don’t kill me. Please.”

 

Something twitched in her face but her voice remained calm and cool as she asked: “Do you know who I am?”

 

He shook his head frantically. “No, I don’t, I really don’t, please, please let me live, please don’t kill me.”

 

She cut his begging short with a flick of her wrist. “Did you ever kill anyone? One of my kind?”

 

Again a frantic shaking of his head before she asked her last question. “What’s your name?”

 

There was no begging this time, just a single word forcing its way out between trembling lips. “Leon.” Something like a smile grazed across the woman’s face. “Skye.” she said. And then she did something he hadn’t seen coming.

 

She tore off a piece of the blood-stained shirt of the man lying right next to her and pressed it to the bloody wound on Leon’s stomach. “Keep pressure on it.” she said. “The police should be here soon, someone probably heard the gunfire. You’ll be fine.” Then she got up and left the room as quickly as a ghost, leaving behind only the bodies on the floor.

 

Outside, Skye turned around one more time and looked up to the camera right next to the door. “Hi there, Victor.” she said, a cold, joyless smile on her face. “I know you’re watching this. You killed my family. And you did it quite masterful, too. But you made one big mistake. You left me alive.”

 

Her smile vanished and left nothing but pure, burning hate as she continued.

 

“And now I am going to hunt you down.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was long past midnight when Skye drove past the sign welcoming her to Beacon Hills.

 

She did not see the glowing blue eyes watching her arrival from the dark woods.


	2. One

Sometimes, Derek hated his life. Well, who was he kidding? He hated his life most of the time. But right now, he hated it especially much. Why was this werewolf trespassing into their territory? Why was he the one to fight him, when he wasn’t even part of Scott’s pack? And why the hell was the other werewolf so damn strong, even though he was clearly an Omega?

 

 _Because you’re an Omega too,_ a helpful voice in his head reminded him, and Derek almost snarled. He might’ve said that he didn’t care about power, and that was true, for the most part, if giving it up meant to save the life of someone he cared about, but right now, he’d done anything for just some of the power he’d possessed as an Alpha.

 

The other wolf’s claws collided with his chest, and Derek hissed in pain as he stumbled backwards against a tree. But before he could raise his own claws to defend himself, the Omega was upon him again, growling and snapping at him angrily, and it took all of Derek’s strength to keep the other wolf from slashing his throat.

 

He managed to twist the other’s hands away from him – a satisfied smile flashed across his face as he heard the crack of a breaking bone – and was about to break free of the Omega’s hold, when suddenly a sound he’d not expected to hear reached his ears. A woman’s voice.

 

“Hey, asshole!”

 

* * *

 

 

Skye heard the sounds of the fight long before she actually saw it. (In retrospect, it was probably one of her worse decisions to just ignore it and keep running. She had always been awful at decision-making, and her mother had made it a habit to tell her to grow up and be responsible. Well, here she was, all grown up, and still making horrible decisions.)

 

The closer she came, the clearer it became to her that this wasn’t just an ordinary fight. She heard growling and snarling; animalistic sounds that – in combination with the angry voices she’d heard before – told her she’d just stumbled across a fight between werewolves.

 

Skye gave a deep sigh. Of course she knew about the werewolf activity in Beacon Hills – she wasn’t an amateur; she’d done her research – but literally running into them, that was just her bad luck at play again.

 

She was about to actually take her mother’s advice and turn around as if she’d never noticed anything, when the fight that had previously been all sounds became visible in front of her.

 

There were two of them, both male and with glaring blue eyes, and Skye knew very well what that meant. Still, she remained where she was, her fingers tingling with the ache to summon her lightning, just in case.

 

It quickly became clear to her that there was a crucial difference in the way the two werewolves fought. The smaller one, with long greyish hair and torn and dirty clothes, kept going for the other’s throat with claws and teeth while the other one – tall, younger, with black hair and beard – dodged hits and clearly tried to knock the other out, not kill him.

 

For a moment, it seemed like the fight was fairly even, no one really managing to place a solid hit, but then the younger one was thrown off his feet, collided with a tree and the other was upon him, claws just barely missing his throat.

 

Skye cursed under her breath and clenched her fists. “I shouldn’t do that.” she murmured. “I definitely should not do that.” But of course, she did it anyway. She left her hiding spot behind the tree from which she’d watched the whole fight and yelled: “Hey, asshole!”

 

Both werewolves raised their heads and Skye gave a grin. “I’m talking to you, wolfy.” she said, looking the older one straight into his blue eyes. “Why don’t you pick on someone your size? That guy looks way too big for you.”

 

That was enough for the werewolf. He let go of the other and came towards her with a low, angry growl, barely anything human left in the look on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Skye saw the younger werewolf scrambling to his feet, screaming for her to run, but before the other one could even take more than a few steps, a glowing blue bolt hit him right into the chest and he fell to the ground, completely motionless.

 

For a few endless seconds, it was deadly silent except for the electricity still crackling between Skye’s fingers. Then the werewolf crossed the distance between them and had her pinned against a tree in the blink of an eye. His face had completely moved back to human, and now, as it was hovering just inches from hers, Skye noticed for the first time that he was rather handsome, about her age and with piercing green eyes.

 

“Who are you?” he growled.

 

Skye didn’t fight back, although she could’ve easily broken free of his grip. Instead, she gave him a half-smile. “I’m Skye.” she answered. “Nice to meet you. Also, the one who just saved your ass. So don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

 

He just stared at her for a moment, his eyes full of distrust, but then he let her go and took a step back, still eyeing her cautiously. She stretched out her hand.

 

“Again: Skye.” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

 

He didn’t grab her hand, but after a few moment of silence he replied: “Derek.”

 

She smiled again and gestured towards the unconscious werewolf on the ground. “Well, Derek, he’s out cold, not dead. So you can take him to your Alpha, or wherever you want to take him. You do seem more like the Omega type.” He’d been out here fighting this other wolf all on his own after all. No pack to back him up, nothing. This whole situation practically screamed fight between Omegas.

 

Before Derek had the chance to answer, she added: “But you have to do me a favor. Don’t tell anyone I was here. Tell whoever you want to talk to about this that you beat this asshole all on your own.”

 

“Why would I do that?” Skye raised her eyebrows. “Because, as I’ve already mentioned, I did just save your ass. And it’s very important that no one ever finds out I’m here.” She shivered at the thought of exactly how important. If anyone found out, she’d be on the run again – or worse, fighting for her life.

 

Derek didn’t move. Instead, he said: “I won’t tell anyone if you tell me what the hell you are.”

 

Skye sighed. This was the whole reason intervening had been a horrible idea. Now she obviously had to give him some sort of explanation – he’d seen her shoot lightning out of her hands after all – and he didn’t look like the sort of person who’d accept some vague half-assed story. She decided to just settle for the truth. Sort of.

 

“I’ll tell you.” she said quietly. “But not here. Get him” – another gesture towards the other werewolf – “out of here and then I’ll meet you somewhere else and tell you what you want to know.”

 

He scoffed. “Why should I trust you?” he asked.

 

“You shouldn’t.” Skye simply answered. “But you can hear my heartbeat, right? I’m not lying.”

 

Derek cocked his head, obviously intently listening, and then he nodded slowly. “Fine.” he said, not sounding too thrilled. “An hour. Meet me at Hadley’s, downtown.”

 

Skye gave a wide grin. “Looks like you got yourself a date, handsome.”


	3. Two

Skye was the first to arrive. 

Hadley’s was already bustling with people, even though it was only six o’clock, and Skye barely got a seat at the bar. “A beer.” she called to the barkeeper – a stout, bald man in his mid-forties – and he raised his eyebrows. “I’m going to need to see some ID.” he said.

Skye rolled her eyes as she handed it to him. Granted, it was a fake ID, but the age on it was correct. She’d turned twenty-one three years ago, but still got asked for an ID on a regular basis. Maybe it was her height – she barely reached 5’4” – or that she’d inherited her mother’s genes, who hadn’t looked a day older than thirty at forty-eight. 

The barkeeper handed her a bottle and she took a deep sip. She was still contemplating what to tell Derek, whether to tell him virtually everything or just tell him the basics, but her thoughts were cut short when someone sat down on the barstool next to her. She raised her head and met Derek’s green eyes. 

“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like that?” she asked with a smirk.

Derek’s face didn’t even show the hint of an emotion. Instead, he got started at once, looking her straight in the eye and demanding: “Tell me what you are.” 

She sighed. “So you’re the straight-to-business type, huh?” 

He didn’t say anything, just stared at her expectantly, and Skye started talking, carefully considering every word. “Well, I am what you would probably call a witch. Although we don’t really like that word. We just call ourselves gifted.” 

“Gifted how?” Derek seemed calm, but in his eyes Skye could see a mixture of surprise und the same distrust that had been there before, only stronger now. 

“We are all stronger and faster than ordinary humans, though probably not as strong as werewolves, and we heal quickly.” she explained. “But every one of us has a special ability, and they’re all different. I, for example, can control electricity.” She raised her hand slightly so that Derek could see the blue sparks crackling between her fingers, and she could see him tense. 

“How many of you are there?” he asked, obviously still trying to assess whether she or her people were a threat. 

Skye almost flinched. It always hurt to remember that there were only a handful of her people left, that the majority of them had been wiped out by the group that called themselves The Guardians, the group that had killed her family as well. When she finally answered, her voice was quiet. “There used to be a lot. Now, not so much.” 

Derek didn’t ask what had happened and somehow that made him much more likeable to her. She remembered the research she’d done before she’d come here, about the Hale family of werewolves and the fire that had killed most of them, and she realized that he probably knew very well what it was like to lose the people he cared about most. 

For a few moments, none of them talked, then Derek asked: “Why did you come here?” Skye shrugged. “I was looking for a place to lay low, and Beacon Hills was the next-best city. I figured that all the supernatural activity here would distract from me.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re running.” It wasn’t a question, but she still nodded, not even the hint of a smile on her face. “Yes. I’m running.” 

Derek didn’t ask any more questions after that. Instead, Skye was now the one to ask him: “You won’t tell anyone about me?” He looked at her with a glance she couldn’t quite interpret before he nodded. “As long as you keep quiet, I won’t.” Skye gave him a smile. “Thank you.” 

She was about to get up and leave when she suddenly heard Derek’s voice again. “Thank you.” 

She turned around and looked at him incredulously. “What?” For a moment, his lips twitched into something almost resembling a smile. “You probably did save my ass.”

Skye’s smile grew wider. “Damn right I did.”

* * *

 

Scott stared at the werewolf in front of him, without any clue what to do next. 

Derek had called him about an hour ago with the words “I’ve got an unconscious Omega in my trunk who was trespassing on your territory, what do want to do with him?” and now the wolf – who was still out cold, though he didn’t seem to have any visible injuries – was strapped to a chair in Deaton’s animal clinic, Scott, Stiles and Dr. Deaton standing around him while Derek had left just after he’d dropped the unconscious werewolf off. 

The stranger looked to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties, with old, shabby clothes and dirty greyish hair. Even unconscious, his face looked somewhat sneaky and manipulative, and Scott could understand why now one had wanted this man in his pack. 

Stiles was the first to ask the obvious question. “So, what do we do with him?” 

Scott snorted. “Well, as you may remember, I’m pretty new at this whole Alpha thing, so I don’t really know what the usual line of action is in this sort of case.”

Both boys turned their gazes to Dr. Deaton who smiled one of his usual cryptic smiles. “There is no usual line of action, Scott.”, he said calmly, a little bit to calm for Scott’s taste – who, frankly, was freaking out a little right now. “You’re an Alpha now. You have to decide how to handle things for yourself.” 

The young Alpha looked at him pleadingly. “But I thought you’re an emissary and you’re supposed to give advice to the Alpha.” Dr. Deaton chuckled at this, much to Scott’s desperation. “I’m not your emissary, Scott. I was Talia Hale’s. Also, what we do is just that – give advice. The actual decision is still up to the Alpha.” 

Scott sighed and looked at Stiles. “What do you think?” he asked. His best friend shrugged. “I don’t know.” he admitted. “I would’ve proposed to just punch him in the face and tell him to get his hairy ass out of Beacon Hills, but I guess our sourwolf already took care of that.” 

A mischievous smile danced across his face. “We could also torture him.” he proposed. “Just a little, to make sure he doesn’t come back.” Scott shook his head decidedly. “No. We’re not doing that. We’re not torturing people, remember?”

Now it was Stiles’ turn to sigh. “Right, I forgot.”, he mumbled under his breath. “True alpha, all noble and righteous. So, what are you actually planning to do?” 

Before Scott even had the chance to answer – not that he had an answer – the Omega groaned and began to move. His eyes fluttered open and for a few seconds, he seemed to just take in the room around him before his gaze found Scott and he growled angrily.

“What did you do to me?” he snapped. “Let me go!” 

Scott took a deep breath. He had to make a decision, and he had to make it now. So he forced his heartbeat to stay calm and steady and took a few steps towards the other werewolf, letting his eyes flash bright red. 

“Maybe you should be more thankful for what we didn’t do to you.” he said, his voice sounding much more sure of himself than he actually felt. “Because when you trespass on our territory and attack one of us again, we won’t just tie you up and threaten you. Understand?”

For a moment, the other werewolf met his gaze, piercing blue and flaring red, but then he dropped his head, bared his throat for a moment, and Scott knew he’d won.

He was the Alpha, after all.


	4. Three

Craig Hall – that was the Omega’s name, which neither Scott nor Derek nor Skye knew – left Beacon Hills the following day.

 

He was not going to come back – he knew he could never hope to beat an Alpha one on one, much less one with a pack – but he was going to tell someone about what had happened to him.

 

Craig was very sure that if he just found the right people, they would be willing to pay a lot of money for information about the young Alpha who probably didn’t get his powers by stealing them and about the woman who could shoot lightning out of her hands.

 

He smiled as he crossed the city’s border. Craig had always been a sucker for money.

 

* * *

 

 

Another day later, Allison smiled as well as her arrows each hit their targets with precision.

 

She’d had a nightmare that night, about shooting arrow after arrow but never hitting what she wanted to hit. Instead, she’d hit her friends, had seen them bleeding out in front of her, and when she’d woken up trembling and covered in cold sweat, she’d heard Dr. Deaton’s voice echoing through her head. _It’ll be a kind of darkness around your heart._

Part of her had ached to tell Scott about it when she’d seen him in school this morning, but he’d been busy talking to Stiles about an Omega they’d chased out of Beacon Hills earlier, and frankly, it wasn’t Scott’s job to take care of her anymore. She had been the one to break up with him – though sometimes, she thought that this had been the greatest mistake of her life – and she was fully able to take care of herself.

 

She was an Argent, after all. And Argents protected those who could not protect themselves. She was a protector, not someone who needed protection.

A voice interrupted her thoughts. “Now that we’ve settled you’re still a perfect shot, can we please go home? It’s freezing out here.” Allison turned around to look at Lydia, who looked decidedly out of place in her short dress and her high-heeled boots, and flashed her best friend another smile.

 

“Sure.” she said. “Let’s go home.”

 

She didn’t take another look back as she followed Lydia to her car. If she had, she might have noticed the woman hiding behind a group of bushes.

 

* * *

 

The woman behind the bushes, who happened to be Skye, let out a relieved breath as the two girls vanished between the trees again. She’d been on her usual five-mile-run through the woods when suddenly she’d heard the all too well-known sound of arrows wheezing through the air. (The Guardians had been very fond of using arrows, because their victims could not heal without removing them. They had also perfected the art of poisoning arrows with foxglove, therefore making people like her unable to use their powers. Understandably, Skye didn’t like arrows too much.)

 

Skye had decided to not let the girls – one red-haired, the other one, who had been the shooter, dark-haired – know she was there. She was pretty sure that normal teenagers didn’t randomly carry around crossbows or shoot at trees, so the dark-haired girl was most likely somehow involved with the supernatural as well, which had lead Skye to the conclusion that it was probably best to keep herself hidden. It was bad enough already that Derek knew who and what she was.

 

Groaning, she got up from her uncomfortable position behind the bushes and stretched her legs. She had another two miles to go if she wanted to complete her usual round.

 

But she was interrupted again not more than a few minutes later. Just as she jogged past the burned out ruin which she knew used to be the Hale house, a familiar voice had her stop in tracks. “You were lucky they didn’t see you.”

 

Skye turned around slowly and looked into Derek Hale’s green eyes. “I wasn’t lucky.” she answered. “I’m just that good.”

 

He snorted and Skye smiled before asking: “Mind telling me what happened to the Omega?”

 

Derek seemed to hesitate for a moment before he said: “Scott made it very clear to him that Beacon Hills is not the place for him.” Skye made a mental note to find out who this Scott was and then raised one eyebrow. “I really hope that in that case ‘making it clear’ meant beating the living shit out of him. I did not like that guy.”

 

Something like a smile flickered over Derek’s face and he replied: “You and probably everyone else. But solving problems with violence is not really Scott’s thing.”

 

Skye shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to disagree. But well, not my decision.” She gave another smile. “See you around, Derek.”

 

Derek did not say anything but as she jogged away, she had the weird feeling that she would really be seeing him around.

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek got home – not that the place where so many horrible things had happened was really a home to him – the loft felt too big and weirdly empty. He missed Cora, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, least of all to her. They had both agreed that staying in South America was safest for her, but now that she wasn’t here to fill the loft with anything but this goddamn silence, Derek felt like he could still hear Kali’s laugh as she forced him to kill Boyd with his own hands.

 

The death of his pack haunted him day and night. Sometimes he would wake up and feel Erica in his arms, her body cold and lifeless against his. Sometimes he would come home and see Boyd’s eyes full of pain, looking at him from the darkest corners of his loft. And the worst part of it was that he knew it was all his fault. If he’d just been a better Alpha, if he’d just given in to Deucalion, Boyd and Erica would still be alive.

 

Sighing, he got himself a beer from the fridge, dropped down on the sofa and took a deep sip. He knew the alcohol wouldn’t do much good – a side effect of his healing ability – but right now, he’d given anything to be able to get drunk. He was very sure that otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep that night.

 

He was wrong.

 

He did fall asleep, sometime around two AM, and when he woke up, it was still dark outside and his head was full of pictures of his family, burning to death, of Laura, torn in half, of Boyd and Erica, looking at him with eyes that practically seemed to scream “It was your fault”.

 

Without thinking, Derek grabbed the empty beer bottle that still stood on the table in front of the sofa he’d fallen asleep on and threw it across the room. It shattered against the opposite wall and fell to the ground in pieces.

 

Derek forced himself to take a deep breath and buried his head in his hands. For a moment he sat motionless, then he sprang to his feet abruptly. The loft that had felt too big and empty just hours ago was now suffocating him, drowning him in memories and feelings and stealing the air from his lungs. He had to get out of here.

 

He did not bother grabbing his car keys. What he needed now was to run until even his strong and untiring werewolf body begged him to stop, until he could feel something else beside the overwhelming guilt.

 

Lately, he spent a lot of time trying to run from his memories.


	5. Four

“Hi.”

 

Scott averted his gaze from the economics textbook he’d been meaning to read for the last couple of days and looked up to find two identical faces staring at him. He suppressed a sigh and closed the book he’d just opened mere minutes ago before he asked: “What do you want?”

 

“To make you an offer.” one of them – Scott’s guess was Aiden, though he wasn’t sure – replied. The other twin – Ethan, if he’d been correct – just nodded and the young Alpha raised his eyebrows. “Go ahead.”

 

Probably-Aiden shook his head vehemently. “Not here.” he said, his gaze flickering towards a group of students standing nearby, and then pointed to the door right next to them. “In there.” “Please.” his brother added and Scott concluded that this was definitely Ethan. From what he knew about the brothers, Aiden was much more heads-on. But he didn’t say anything, just got up and followed the twins into the empty classroom.

 

“So?” he asked as soon as Ethan had closed the door behind them. “What’s your offer?”

 

The twins exchanged a glace Scott could not really interpret, and then Aiden began to speak. “We’re not Alphas anymore.” he explained. “What Jennifer did… it took that from us. We’re Omegas now. And Omegas don’t survive long without a pack.”

 

Scott was slowly beginning to understand what the twins wanted. Still, just to be sure, he asked: “Are you asking me to join my pack?” It was Ethan who nodded. “Yes. We’ll all benefit from it. We get a pack, you get two more betas. You…” Scott interrupted him. “Stop. Both of you. I can’t have people in my pack I don’t trust. And I can’t trust you, not after what you did.”

 

Pictures of Boyd and Erica appeared in his head, of Derek broken down on the floor of his loft, and he had to keep himself from attacking them there and then.

 

The twins actually seemed to shrink a little, sincere regret in their eyes, and Scott calmed down quickly. (Stiles would’ve scolded him for being too damn nice.) “Give me a reason to trust you, and I’ll think about it.” he said before he turned around and left the room.

 

Outside, he took a deep breath and wondered if he’d made the right decision. This whole Alpha thing was beginning to really stress him out.

 

* * *

 

 

Skye sat hunched in front of her laptop, scrolling through the hundreds of pages of records she’d stolen from all the Guardian bases she’d taken down over the last few years. She’d read them all countless times, but still they never failed to make her burn with anger. There were vivid descriptions of torture, a register of all the gifted people they’d encountered, lists of those they’d killed – name after name of which Skye knew more than a few – and coded descriptions of other bases all around the world.

 

It hadn’t taken her long to crack the code – and she’d even been to Europe and Asia to take down a few of the bigger bases there – but none of them had any information where their leader Victor Ford was – or even any information about him, really. All Skye found in the records was a picture of his face – the face that haunted her in her dreams almost every night, with piercing eyes and a cruel, cold smile – and a text supposedly written by him that seemed to be the Guardians’ manifest.

 

It was full of sentences like “they are a plague that needs to be exterminated” and “it is our responsibility to keep humankind safe from those monsters” and those were not even the worst of it. What really filled Skye with a mixture of horrible dread and burning hatred were sentences like “they are animals, cattle, waiting to be slaughtered, begging for it“ and “kill children and babies, kill the old and the wounded, kill those who seem innocent, kill everyone”.

 

But right now, she was not looking at those sick, sadistic psychopath’s thoughts. She was staring at the records about bases in California.

 

There had been three of them, all of which she’d taken out about two years ago, and from what information she’d gathered, there weren’t enough Guardians left in America to rebuild them. ( _They know now what damage one little survivor can do_ , she thought with a small smile on her lips.)

 

Still, she could not be too careful. She knew very well that there were still Guardians scattered all across the country, hunting on their own, and if one of them found her and managed to inform others of her location before she took him out, she’d be in trouble.

 

But as she’d already expected, the records told her nothing new, so she closed the laptop with an exasperated sigh.

 

Sighing again, Skye pushed the laptop away from her and started pacing through the room. It was about time for her usual run, but she did not feel like running. She felt like getting drunk. But since that wasn’t an option, she decided to do the closest thing there was to it – go to a bar and drink until she felt the illusion of drunkenness.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles stood in the middle of his room, pictures of murder victims and different-colored threads of yarn scattered all around him. Breathing heavily, he stared at the now empty board in front of him that had previously been covered in all the pictures and maps and drawings and newspaper articles, connected by green and yellow and red strings – mostly red, to be honest.

 

He’d torn it all down in an attempt to convince himself that it was really over, that Jennifer was dead and Deucalion was gone, but it hadn’t helped. He still felt like it wasn’t over. Hell, he felt like this whole mess was only just getting started.

 

Stiles thought of what Dr. Deaton had said before they’d sacrificed themselves to the Nemeton. “ _You'll be giving power back to the Nemeton, a place that hasn't had power for a long time. This kind of power is like a magnet. It attracts the supernatural, the kind of things that a family like the Argents can fill the pages of a bestiary with. It will draw them here, like a beacon.”_

He wondered if that was the reason why he couldn’t shake that sinking feeling that something was coming. And he also wondered if it was just that, a feeling, of if it was the darkness around his heart that Dr. Deaton had also been talking about.

 

Stiles had been meaning to talk to Lydia all week, had been meaning to ask her if she had that feeling too – because if she had it, it wasn’t just a feeling, something was actually going to happen – but he hadn’t, partly because he’d barely had any opportunity to talk to her and partly because he was afraid of the answer he might get.

 

He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Beacon Hills has had enough shit.” he murmured to himself and started gathering the pictures still scattered on the ground. Without looking at them again, he threw them into the bin. _It’s over,_ he told himself again. _We’re fine and it’s over._

“Hey, Stiles.”

 

He flinched, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, but he calmed down a little when he turned around to see his father standing in the doorway. “God, dad, you scared me.” he said. “I thought you were still at the station.”

 

Sheriff Stilinski – who looked tired and worn, just like Stiles felt – shook his head. “Nope. After we got this dark-druid-whatever-case all wrapped up, I took the liberty to leave early to have dinner with my son. What do you want?”

 

Stiles threw the last few pictures away and got up with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “Chinese?” he proposed.

 

His father nodded. “Chinese is great.”


	6. Five

Derek wasn’t sure why he’d come to the bar. Maybe he needed people around him without having to talk to them; maybe he’d just been drifting. All he knew was that he now found himself at Hadley’s with a scotch standing in front of him.

 

He was about to take a deep sip when someone dropped down on the barstool next to him. Irritated, he turned his gaze and met dark brown eyes in a pretty face. Skye gave him a half-smile.

 

“Two people who can’t get drunk walk into a bar.” she said. “Sounds like the beginning to a bad joke, don’t you think?”

 

Derek didn’t say anything, just turned his gaze back to his scotch. He still didn’t know what to think of Skye. She’d told him the truth about herself – that he was sure of – but there was something about her that he couldn’t quite interpret, something that somehow reminded him of himself.

 

The barkeeper – a younger guy, not the one that had been here the day he’d first been here with Skye – came over to them and looked her up and down appreciatively before asking: “What can I get you?” “Tequila.”, she replied, seemingly unfazed by his attention.

 

Derek shot her quick glance. It wasn’t like he couldn’t understand the barkeeper. Skye was certainly gorgeous, with long dark hair, a pretty, somewhat exotic face and curves in all the right places. But after the fiasco with Jennifer, Derek was determined on not getting involved with any women for a very long time, especially women with a shady past and supernatural abilities.

 

She downed her tequila as soon as the barkeeper handed it to her and then turned to Derek again. “So, what drove you to a place that doesn’t really have anything to offer to you?”

 

Again, he didn’t answer. He didn’t feel like discussing his feelings with anyone, especially not with a woman he barely knew and most certainly didn’t trust. Skye just snorted. “Right, you’re not the talkative type. I can deal with that.” She gestured towards the barkeeper and then towards the empty glass in front of her. “Another one.”

 

For a while, they sat next to each other in silence. It didn’t escape Derek’s attention that Skye seemed different from the times he’d met her before. Her whole body was tensed, as if she expected an attack at any moment, and something like pain laid hidden deep in her eyes, even though she was a master at concealing it.

 

It was him who broke the silence, somewhat involuntarily, as the words left his lips before he could stop them. “Are you okay?”

 

Skye looked at him surprised and in her eyes he could see the question he was asking himself. _Why would he ask that?_ When she answered, her voice sounded relaxed and light-hearted, even though her face still told otherwise. “Yeah. I simply have a sudden urge for tequila.”

 

She downed the new shot the barkeeper had brought her and added so quietly that he could barely hear her: “I just wish it would have some effect.” There was a brief silence and then she looked at Derek curiously. “What about you?” she asked carefully.

 

Derek stared down at the glass in front of him. He was not okay – he had not been since Erica’s and Boyd’s deaths – but he would not talk to anyone about that, least of all to a complete stranger, so he just nodded.

 

They came to a silent agreement after that. None of them said anything more – they just sat next to each other in silence, each one of them busy with their own thoughts – and when Skye got up just after midnight, she gave him a sad smile before she left the bar.

 

Derek felt his lips twitching to return her smile.

 

* * *

 

 

Skye did not go straight home.

 

Instead, she sat in her car, her eyes burning with tears that she could not bring herself to cry. Her fingers were trembling and her mind was full of memories that made her heart ache in pain, memories of her parents, her brother, her aunt and uncle and cousins, of everyone who had died when that bomb went off, everyone she hadn’t been able to save.

 

A small, irrational part of her hoped that Derek would come out – maybe just because right now, she felt like she was standing in the middle of a giant graveyard, the only living person left on earth – but the door of the bar didn’t open until she finally gained the composure to start her car and drive away.

 

When Skye arrived at the apartment that she’d rented on her arrival in Beacon Hills, she felt relatively calm again, the painful memories locked away safely in the back of her mind. Still, she knew it would be a long night, full of nightmares and ghosts from her past coming back to haunt her.

 

She woke around five o’clock, covered in cold sweat and feeling even more tired than before. For a while, she tried to fall back asleep, but then she decided that it was of no use. She would have to pass the day with four hours of sleep – something that she’d gotten quite good at.  

 

Skye got up and pulled out a black suitcase from under her bed. However, she did not open it immediately, just stared at it for a while, her breathing calm and her hands steady but a storm raging in her eyes.

 

The suitcase had belonged to her father – his initials PCA, Paul Christopher Abernathy, were still engraved into its black leather – and when Skye had been a little girl, she had not been allowed to go anywhere near it. But now it was hers and with it all the weapons it contained, and she had used it countless times already.

 

She took a deep breath and opened the suitcase.

 

It was filled with weapons of all kinds – guns, knives, arrows, a crossbow, rifles, daggers – countless weapons that Skye had been trained to use all her youth, as well as every gifted child born in the last twenty years.

 

Skye and everyone like her had been trained to be soldiers, soldiers in a long and bloody war between the Gifted and the Guardians that had ended in the genocide of her people. But she had survived – she, a small, harmless-looking woman who could kill a man in a hundred different ways without even using her powers – and she had put all those weapons to good use when she had taken out almost all the bigger Guardian bases one by one.

 

It had satisfied her thirst for revenge for a while, but it had not brought her family back, and she still hadn’t cut off the snake’s head, still hadn’t found the man behind all of this – Victor Ford, the man who had ordered to plant the bombs in her family’s home, the man who had led the Guardians to their victory over the Gifted. She still wasn’t done. And that was why she had to make sure she did not go out of practice.

 

Skye grabbed a few knives, all of different lengths and styles, and got up. She took another deep breath, squared her shoulders and watched with satisfaction as the knives each hit their target, a sloppily drawn circle on the opposite wall.

 

A bitter smile grazed across her lips as she imagined the circle to be Victor Ford’s head.


	7. Six

It was almost midnight when Skye drove back into Beacon Hills. 

She had tracked a few of the Guardians’ shipments to a weapons dealer in Los Angeles and though it had been a long shot, she had decided to drive down to LA and check it out. But it had been a dead end. The dealer – a short, fat man who was a little too sure of himself – had not even known who he’d delivered the weapons to, and Skye was very sure that this information was true because, well, she’d tortured him to get it. 

Now here she was, frustrated and tired, with her old crappy Dodge running low on fuel and not a tiny bit closer to finding Victor Ford. 

A joyless smile flickered across her face as a gas station appeared on the side of the road. “At least that problem is fixable.” she murmured to herself as she pulled over. 

She was in the middle of filling her tank when another car came to a stop right next to her. It was a nice car – a black Chevrolet Camaro – but Skye was surprised as she laid eyes on the driver. It was Derek, looking every bit as tired and worn as she felt. 

He got out of his car and raised one eyebrow when he saw her. “You’re out late.” he said without a greeting.

Skye gave a dry chuckle. “Nice to meet you too, Derek. And I guess we both are.”

He did not say anything but simply turned away and started to tank up his own car. For a while, neither of them said a word. Then Derek looked at her with a strange look she could not really interpret before saying: “You’ve got blood on your face.” 

Her hand shot up to her cheek and she felt the dried blood on it. But she could not recall having been hurt by the dealer or his minions, so it had to be someone else’s blood. “Oh.” she said, rubbing it away with her finger as best as she could. “I’m pretty sure it’s not mine though.”

Derek’s mouth twitched. “I don’t assume you’re going to tell me where you’ve been.” His voice sounded unusually sarcastic and she could not suppress a slight smile. “It’s probably best if you don’t know.” she agreed. 

He did not seem all too disappointed, he just said: “As long as whatever you’ve been up to doesn’t put Beacon Hills in danger, I don’t mind.” “It won’t.” Skye answered quietly. “I promise.” 

Something like a smile grazed across Derek’s lips and he gave a brief nod. “Good.” he said, starting to walk towards the building to pay, but he turned around one more time. “See you around, Skye.” 

“Yeah.” she said, a smile on her lips that – like most of her smiles since the bombing – did not quite reach her eyes. “See you around, Derek.”

* * *

 

“Hey, Lydia!”

The redhead turned around and gave a deep sigh as she saw who had called her name. It was Aiden, running towards her with a smile on his face that – Lydia had to admit this much – she had once found irresistible.

She slammed the door of her locker shut emphatically. “What do you want, Aiden?” she snapped. 

He flinched a little, but Lydia was fairly sure that he was just putting on a show. “I want to talk to you.” he answered, the smile on his face slowly vanishing and giving way to something like guilt, though she couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t an act as well. “And I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I just need you to understand that…”

Lydia interrupted him. “Damn right I don’t want to talk to you. Get lost.” 

Aiden – for all his muscles and strength – suddenly looked like a puppy who had been kicked, and she had to remind herself that he was anything but innocent. She had every reason to be mad, every reason to turn him down. “Please, Lydia.” he said quietly. “I…” 

Again, she cut him off mid-sentence. “No. I don’t want anything to do with you – or your brother, for that matter. Leave me alone, Aiden. I mean it.” And with that, she turned around and marched away, without one last look back. 

When she entered the history classroom, her hands were trembling. Lydia knew she was right, knew that Aiden was one of the bad guys. She had seen him help kill Boyd, after all, and even though at least half of the school were probably a little scared of her, Lydia liked to think that she was one of the good guys (which made sense, since Scott was definitely a good guy and she was part of his pack, so she was good by association – and this logic made Aiden bad by association as well as by what he’d done). 

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just made a big mistake.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Stiles dropped down on the seat next to her. “Hey, Lyds.” he said cheerfully. “You okay?”

Lydia nodded. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” she said a little too snappy. Stiles raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything as in this very moment Mr. Hardy entered the room and started his lecture, giving her something to focus on. 

Nevertheless, Aiden remained a thought in the back of her mind. 

* * *

 

Stiles kept his gaze on Lydia for the rest of the lesson. 

He knew her long enough to know that something was troubling her, and he was also smart enough to come to the conclusion that her snappiness – even worse than usual self – had probably something to do with Aiden, who he’d seen talking to her – or rather, harassing her – during the break. 

A year ago, this would’ve probably awoken his jealousy, but he’d come to accept that he and Lydia would never be more than friends. So now, thinking about Aiden awoke nothing but worry. 

He knew that Lydia still had feelings for him, but he also knew that Aiden was one of the bad guys, and he didn’t fully trust her to make the right choice about him. Lydia had not exhibited the best decision-making-skills when it came to boys – she had chosen Jackson over him, after all, which still bothered him, even though he didn’t see her that way anymore – so he felt that it was his responsibility to make sure Aiden left her alone. 

Well, maybe with some help from Scott, because Stiles knew very well that he wasn’t really a match for Aiden, especially for him and his brother. 

Stiles shivered as he remembered how Aiden and Ethan had held Derek down while Kali had lowered Boyd onto his claws. He remembered Boyd’s body, broken and bloody on the floor of the loft. He remembered Derek, kneeling there covered in Boyd’s blood, a look of utter pain and desperation on his face, and Stiles knew that he could never forgive the twins for what they’d done.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on what Mr. Hardy was telling them about World War II. 

Later, he would talk to Scott about the twins and hopefully, he would be able to convince his best friend that Aiden and Ethan should never be allowed to join the pack. 

They could not be trusted. And Stiles didn’t want people around him or his friends that he could not trust. 


	8. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really appreciate some more comments.

****

Derek wasn’t sure what had woken him. All he knew was that when he woke up, he was trembling and his breathing was fast and ragged.

 

The shadows in the loft seemed to move around him, summoning memories of blood and death and destruction, drawing closer and closer each seconds and filling the room with the scent of copper and smoke.

 

He just sat there for a few moments, trying to keep the shadows at bay, but then he got up abruptly and grabbed a shirt. He needed to get out of here, needed some fresh air to clear his head, needed to try and run from his memories, even though that never really worked out.

 

The night was cold and clear, the moon big and bright among countless stars in the dark blue sky – it would be the full moon in a few days – but Derek didn’t notice any of it. He just ran, his heart pounding in his chest, until his feet carried him to a spot he spent a lot of time at lately.

 

It was a hill just outside of Beacon Hills from which the whole town could be seen, and Derek had always liked it there (maybe because seeing everything gave him the illusion of being in control, something he’d been missing all his life). But when he got there today, he wasn’t alone.

 

Someone was already there, sitting on a big, flat rock, and Derek let his eyes flash blue for a moment before he recognized who it was. “Skye?” he asked incredulously.

 

She flinched and before he knew what was happening, her hands were glowing blue with electricity, illuminating the trees around them. The glowing slowly faded as recognition showed on her face. “Derek.” she said quietly, and he could hear that her heart was still beating faster than it should.

 

He hesitated for a moment before he sat down on the rock next to her. Skye looked weirdly small and fragile as she sat there with her arms wrapped around her knees, and Derek had the sudden urge to make sure she was alright. “You okay?” he asked carefully.

 

Skye nodded without looking at him. “Yeah.” she murmured. “Just needed some air.” She turned and her dark eyes met his. “What about you? This isn’t really the usual time for a little walk.”

 

Derek snorted. “You don’t say.”

 

They both fell silent and he unconsciously started listening to her heartbeat again. It was fairly calm but he could tell that she was trying very hard to keep her breathing steady, and he just knew that she had probably come out here for the same reasons that he had.

 

When Skye started talking again, it took him by surprise. Her voice was quiet and wavering, barely more than a whisper, as she asked: “Do you ever feel like you’re a monster? Like you just keep hurting everyone around you?”

 

Her words tore right into his mind and he clenched his fists so tightly it almost hurt. “Yes.” he whispered. “All the time.” Skye did not say anything but for a brief moment, Derek felt like he’d known her for ages.

 

They sat in mutual silence for quite some time – maybe minutes, maybe hours; Derek could not really tell – and when Skye turned to him again, the pain that he knew all too well was hidden deep inside the back of her eyes and she was smiling at him.

 

“We just seem to keep running into each other, huh?”

 

A barely-there smile grazed across Derek’s face. “Well, I have the suspicion that you are following me around.”

 

Skye raised one eyebrow. “Me? Following you? You do realize I was here first, right?”

 

Derek suppressed a grin and noticed that the memories which usually would not stop torturing him all night, no matter how long he ran through the forest, were nothing more than a thought at the back of his mind now. But he chose to ignore why, and he also chose to ignore why it was so easy to talk to Skye, who he barely knew. Instead he said: “Here being Beacon Hills? No.”

 

She chuckled. “Here being this particular spot? Yes.”

 

Now it was Derek’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Are we really going to have this discussion?” he asked, not really succeeding at hiding his amusement. “I don’t know, you tell me.” she said, and he noticed that she seemed a lot less tense now, no longer making herself as small as she possibly could.

 

“I could think of better things to talk about.” he admitted and Skye looked at him expectantly, her brown eyes meeting his green ones. “Such as?”

 

Derek hesitated. He knew all too well what always happened when he let people too close and part of him wanted to leave at once to make sure he did not ever let Skye too close, but there was also another part of him that wanted to stay and talk to her, because talking to Skye was easy and simple and it distracted him from the memories and the pain and the guilt.

 

The latter part gained dominance after just a few seconds and one single word slipped out of his mouth. “Anything.”

 

Skye seemed to understand exactly how he felt – that he just wanted to talk to have something else to focus on besides his memories – because she gave him another smile. “Politics?” she suggested. “Seems like a safe topic to me.”

 

He grinned. “So you’re not going to kill me if I say women shouldn’t be able to vote?”

 

A smirk danced across her face. “No, I wouldn’t kill you. But I might have to kick your ass.”

 

Derek eyed her narrow frame and snorted. “I really don’t think you could.” he said and Skye’s eyebrows almost vanished under her hair. “You’re being pretty damn confident considering I saved your ass at least once.”

 

He had to admit that was true, for some part at least. He still liked to believe that he would’ve beaten that Omega with or without her intervening. “You used you powers.” he answered. “That’s cheating.”

 

Her eyebrows rose even higher, something he would not have believed possible. “And when you use your werewolf powers it’s not cheating?” Derek knew very well that she was right, but he could not resist teasing her further. (Maybe he liked the way her mouth was curling up towards a smile. _Maybe._ )

 

“That’s different.” he said. “You can use yours long-distance. I can’t.”

 

Skye was silent for a moment, eyeing him with a look he could not quite interpret, before a devious smirk danced across her face. “Ten bucks that I can beat you without using my powers.”

 

He spoke without thinking. “Deal.”

 

He went home about half an hour later, slightly humiliated and down ten bucks.

 

Before he had even managed to place any solid hits (though he doubted that he could’ve brought himself to hit that tiny, harmless-looking woman who he knew to be not harmless at all) Skye, who was apparently heavily trained in martial arts, had dodged his hits flawlessly and put a knife to his throat from behind in a matter of seconds.

 

“You’re cheating.” he’d said hoarsely, all too conscious of her body just centimeters from his, and she’d simply smirked. “I said I wouldn’t use my powers, not that I wouldn’t use any weapons.”

 

But Derek was not as humiliated as he might have been if it had been anyone else beating him almost effortlessly. Because he enjoyed talking to Skye, he enjoyed being with her and he enjoyed nights without the memories and the guilt haunting him.

 

This had been the first of them in a very long time.

 


	9. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A full chapter of Scallison, because they deserved better.

Scott flinched as he entered the house and a wave of sound hit his over-sensitive werewolf hearing. 

It was the birthday of a senior named Kyle, who Scott barely knew but who apparently had invited the whole junior grade plus his own grade, and from what Scott could see, Kyle was planning on making his birthday as unforgettable as possible. He smelled alcohol – and not just a little, lots of it – the music was so loud that the neighbors were bound to call the police at some point and he was also pretty sure that the house – Kyle’s parents’ house, he assumed – would never look the same after this. 

Scott already regretted coming here. He hadn’t meant to, but Stiles had talked him into it, saying that it would be “the party of the year, dude”. Now, he was sure that it would indeed be the party of the year, but still not a party he was too keen on attending. 

Before he could make up his mind whether to stay or go straight home again, someone grabbed his arm. 

“Scott!” Allison chirped, her voice higher and louder than usual, and he immediately knew she was drunk. “Hey, Allison.” he almost screamed to be heard over the music, forcing himself to smile.

He was not good at dealing with drunken people and lately, he also wasn’t good at dealing with Allison – this whole we-are-breaking-up-but-we’ll-be-together-again-thing had really put a strain on their relationship – so dealing with a drunken Allison was almost certain to end in disaster. 

Allison interrupted his thoughts by tugging on his arm. “Will you dance with me, Scott?” she asked, her speech slightly slurred. “Isaac didn’t want to dance. But you’ll dance with me, right, Scott?” He knew he should say now, because she was drunk and obviously didn’t know what she was doing, but here she was, a pout on her face and her cheeks flushed red, so how could her refuse?

“Sure.” he said. “I’ll dance with you.” 

“Great!” She gave him a bright smile that made his knees feel wobbly before pulling him with her into the living room. 

The music was even louder there and Scott had to keep himself from flinching again, but then Allison put her hands around his neck and everything else vanished. It took all his self-control to not do anything more but put his hands on her waist, and when she smiled again and pressed herself closer to him, he swallowed hard.

She was so close – he could hear her heartbeat, could feel the heat radiating off her body, could smell her sweet perfume – and all he wanted to do was to hold her and kiss her and never let her go again. It was only the memory of Allison looking at him with tears in her eyes, telling him that she had to break up with him, that kept him from doing so. 

Allison put her head on his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck, and when she spoke, her voice – despite being nothing more than a whisper – rang loudly in his ears. 

“I’m sorry, Scott.” she whispered. “What for?” he asked hoarsely. 

She pulled away a little and looked at him. “For breaking up with you.” she said, her speech so slurred it was barely understandable. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t…” A small, sad smile grazed her lips. “God, Scott, I know this is wrong, I know my father will probably kill me or you or us both, I know I’m drunk as fuck and I will regret this in the morning but I still love you. I still love you, Scott McCall, and I wish I’d never broken up with you.”

His heart stopped in his chest and his brain stopped working. Allison looked at him as if she wanted to kiss him and for a few, precious seconds, time seemed to stop, but then her expression changed abruptly and she gulped. “Oh god.” she choked out. “I think I’m going to puke.” And with that, she pulled away completely and ran out. 

Scott stood frozen in place for a moment that felt like an eternity before the common sense he had still left took over again and he ran after her. 

Allison was in the garden, throwing up into the rose bushes, and Scott carefully held her hair back from her face until she appeared to have thrown up everything she’d had in her stomach. 

Her eyes found his and she smiled again. “Oh, hi.” she said. “Where were we?” 

Scott laughed dryly. “I think I’d better get you home. Come on, Allison.” He grabbed her arm and gently pulled her away from the house, choosing not to think about what she’d said until she was home safely.

Then, when he was home too, he could freak out, because he felt like freaking out was the appropriate reaction right now. 

* * *

 

Allison woke with a throbbing headache. 

Groaning, she reached for her phone – safely plugged in on the nightstand, though she had no idea how it had gotten there – and checked the time. Half past eleven. “Shit.” she murmured before starting the daunting task of getting out of bed.

She made it to the bathroom without throwing up – which she wouldn’t have counted as a success on any other day, but today, it definitely was – and sighed in relief as she saw the aspirin in the medicine cabinet. She swallowed two pills and downed two glasses of tab water – her mouth felt incredibly dry – before letting her head sink against the cold tiled wall, closing her eyes and forcing down the urge to throw up. 

Slowly, memories of last night were coming back to her. She remembered going to Kyle’s party with Lydia, she remembered taking one shot after another – because at least for one evening, she wanted to forget all the messed-up crap that happened in Beacon Hills – she remembered pulling Scott with her to dance, she remembered pressing close to him, she remembered… oh, fuck.

Allison opened her eyes abruptly (not a good idea, for her head started spinning again). If her exhausted, hungover brain wasn’t deceiving her, she’d told Scott that she still loved him. Repeatedly. (Not that it wasn’t the truth, but they’d had their reasons for breaking up, and discussing a possible reconciliation was not something that should be done drunk.)

“Shit.” she said again. “Shit, shit, shit.” 

She knew all too well that there was only thing she could do now – call Scott. Because apparently, they had a lot to talk about. 

When the doorbell rang about two hours later, Allison’s headache was fairly under control and she’d forced herself to eat something, but her heart was fluttering at the prospect of talking to Scott about what she’d said.

“Hi.” he said with small smile but Allison couldn’t bring herself to smile back. Instead, there was an awkward silence that seemed to last forever until she audibly cleared her throat and said: “Come on in.” 

He followed her into the living room and sat down on the sofa so that they were facing each other. None of them talked, and Allison chewed her lips nervously, her thought racing in her head. She was trying to figure out what to say, how to best start this conversation that would inevitably be difficult, but when she finally spoke, the words burst out of her mouth without any plan. 

“I guess we need to talk.” Scott just nodded and she kept talking, the words flowing from her lips like a waterfall. “I know we aren’t together anymore and I told you that I still love you and that was so unfair, but I was drunk as hell and didn’t know what I was doing and… to be honest, I still don’t know what I’m doing, so I need you to tell what we should do now, because I have no fricking clue!” 

As soon as she’d finished her monologue, Scott looked at her with a weird longing in his eyes. “Was it a lie?” he asked quietly.

Allison hesitated a moment before saying: “No. No, it wasn’t.”

He smiled, a wide, bright smile, and then he leant towards her, kissing her like he’d used to kiss her, gently and passionately and full of love.

And Allison let him. 


	10. Nine

When Scott caught Allison’s eye in school on Monday, he smiled and she smiled back.

 

After the kiss – which, admittedly, had been an impulsive reaction on his side and probably not the best thing to do – they had talked for hours, an awkward talk full of I’m-sorrys and We-can’ts, until they’d finally come to an agreement.

 

They were not back together – because Allison was right when she said that there were still a shit ton of things between them, even though Scott hated to admit it – but apparently, it also didn’t work for them to be apart, so they had settled on trying. Just letting whatever would happen happen.

 

And if that meant that he could kiss Allison again, Scott was totally fine with it.

 

* * *

 

 

After their encounter in the forest – where Skye had learned that Derek could actually smile and that he, handsome even with his usual brooding look, became devastatingly gorgeous when he did so – it became a habit for her to go to that spot on the hill whenever the nightmares wouldn’t let her sleep.

 

Sometimes Derek was there too, sometimes he wasn’t, and when he was, they talked about anything and everything – except their past and their families, which became a silent taboo between them.

 

Skye found herself going almost every night, hoping to meet Derek. She chose not to think about what this meant. She also chose to ignore what it meant that he was there almost every night as well.

 

The only thing she acknowledged was that Derek and she were slowly growing closer, that he was slowly becoming the only person she felt entirely safe with. And if she sometimes caught herself thinking about kissing him, that was perfectly normal. He was smoking hot, after all. (At least that was what she told herself, because falling in love was the last thing she needed right now. People she loved usually ended up dead.)

 

It was about six weeks after that first meeting that Skye was awoken in the middle of the night by the beeping of her laptop. Confused, she blinked into the darkness for a few moments before she realized what this meant.

 

Just a few months after her family’s murder, she had written a program that alerted her whenever one of the Guardians used their credit card or did anything to leave a virtual trace. Over the years, she had fed the program with known aliases and had deleted the names she knew very well to be dead – mostly because she’d killed them herself – and it had been her most helpful tool in taking the Guardians down.

 

The beeping meant that a Guardian whose name was in the system had just done something that alerted her to his location – a rare occurrence these days because most remaining Guardians had realized that they were being hunted and had gone deep into hiding.

 

Skye scurried to her feet and opened up her laptop. With just a few quick clicks, she had what she wanted. A man named Hector Lovell, real name Ben Carlton, had just used his credit card to check into a motel in Firebaugh, California, just over sixty miles away from Beacon Hills.

 

She glanced at the clock. It was two thirty and she had only been asleep for a little over an hour, but adrenaline was already floating her body and erasing any hint of tiredness. If she took off now, she would be in Firebaugh in less than an hour and a half, and Carlton would be taken care of before any other Guardian would even know he was in California.

 

A dark, twisted grin took over her features as she quickly put on some clothes and grabbed a gun and her car keys.

 

He would never see her coming.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a scream that awoke Derek about an hour later.

 

He immediately knew that it was Lydia who’d screamed. Only a banshee’s scream could pierce through the night like that, could make it unquestionably clear that someone had just died.

 

Derek groaned and reached for his cell phone. There was no doubt that Scott and the rest of the pack had heard the scream as well, and knowing the young Alpha, he was pretty sure that he and Stiles would be at the crime scene before the police.

 

Half an hour later, Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Derek and Lydia – who was shaking; apparently she still hadn’t got used to finding bodies – stood huddled around the body of a young man in a small alleyway just a few blocks from the hospital.

 

Derek could not tell what had been the cause of death. The man – tall, thin, had probably been in his late twenties – seemed completely unharmed except for the weird symbols carved into his chest where his shirt had been torn away – they looked like Chinese or maybe Japanese, but Derek wasn’t sure – and for the fact that he smelled like he’d been dead for weeks, even though he clearly showed no sign of decomposition.

 

“Well?” Stiles asked and looked at them with raised eyebrows.

 

“Well what?” Derek snapped, maybe a little too aggressive, but it was early and he was tired and staring at a body was so not his preferable way of starting the day.

 

“No need to be such a sourwolf.” Stiles replied dryly. “I’m just asking for opinions here. Does anybody have any clue what this is? Or if it is even something supernatural?”

 

There was collective head-shaking and Scott sighed deeply, a reaction that Derek felt was very appropriate. “I think we should call the Sheriff then.” the Alpha said. “This might just be a regular nut job, in which case we should leave investigating to the police.”

 

Stiles nodded in agreement and took out his cell phone, but Derek couldn’t shake the feeling that this was anything but a regular nut job, as Scott had phrased it, because there was definitely something off about the lack of wounds, the carvings and the smell. He was fairly sure that Scott and Isaac thought so too, because they exchanged an exasperated glance and Scott gave another deep sigh before he turned to Derek and asked: “What is that smell?”

 

Derek shrugged. “I don’t know.” he admitted. “If my eyes didn’t tell me this guy has only been dead a few hours max, I would’ve been sure he died weeks ago, maybe months.”

 

Scott wanted to say something else but police sirens went off nearby and Derek took this as his clue to leave. He liked the Sheriff, but he’d had a few run-ins with the police that had not been all that pleasant and he wasn’t too keen on being found next to a body.

 

On his way home, he had a thought. Maybe Skye knew something about who – or rather, what – had done this. He hadn’t known about gifted people before he met her while she had known about werewolves, so she obviously had some knowledge of the supernatural world.

 

Without thinking, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Skye’s number before he realized that it was just a little after four o’clock and she would probably be asleep, but she answered the call after a few seconds.

 

“Not a great time, Derek.” she hissed.

 

He raised his eyebrows even though she couldn’t see it. “Do I want to know what you’re up to?”

 

She gave an exasperated sigh before she answered him with the hint of a smirk in her voice. “I’m sort of in the middle of an assassination attempt.”

 

Derek wasn’t quite sure whether she was serious. He knew that she was still hunting down her family’s killer – even though they had never explicitly spoken about it – but an assassination attempt was not what he had been expecting as her usual nighttime activity.

 

“Any idea when you’ll be done with this assassination of yours?” he asked, his voice strangely calm. He didn’t know why he trusted her so much, but he was sure that if she was really planning on killing someone that that someone deserved it.

 

“Why, you miss me?” There was definitely a smirk in her voice now and he could almost see her face in front of him, glinting brown eyes looking up to him from below dark, long lashes.

 

“No” – _lie –_ “but I kind of need your help.” he answered drily.

 

When Skye replied, her voice was significantly quieter, as if she was trying to avoid detection. “This will probably take me a few more hours. I’ll be at your place sometime this afternoon.”

 

“Okay.” He hesitated a little, then: “Try not to get yourself killed.”

 

She chuckled and the sound made a small smile graze across his face. “Please. I’m not an amateur. Do I have to remind you that I totally kicked your ass multiple times?”

 

And then the call disconnected and left Derek with a strange feeling of worry burning deep in the back of his mind.


	11. Ten

Skye was crouched on top of a fire escape, her eyes fixed on Ben Carlton, who was currently arguing with a small, bald man in the alleyway below her. From what she could hear of their talk, the man was one of dozens scattered across the country who provided the Guardians with all sort of faked documents – which made her smile, because maybe, just maybe, the man knew one of the fake identities Victor Ford was using.

 

It had taken her a few hours to track Carlton down – he had checked into the motel in Firebaugh but had not stayed in the city for long; instead, he had driven a few miles to Mendota, evidently to meet the man he was now talking to – and it was already close to two o’clock. The adrenaline had worn off, she was tired and annoyed and just wanted to get this over with, so she decided to stop being considerate and just interrupt the two men mid-talk.

 

In a matter of seconds, she was down the fire escape and landed in the middle of the alleyway gracefully. She knocked out the small man with a well-placed kick to the head before he even noticed her, but that gave Carlton enough time to draw a gun. The bullet missed her by an inch as she made a quick leap to the left, but Carlton had already jumped towards her and slammed into her with all his weight.

 

Skye gasped in pain as she heard her ribs crack and she was sure that at least two of them were broken, but she clenched her teeth and ignored the searing pain in her chest. Almost effortlessly, she blocked his next hit and raised her hand, shooting a surge of electricity through his body that sent him crashing into the wall of the abandoned building next to the alley.

 

He scrambled to his feet but Skye was already in front of him, her gun pointed at his head.

 

“Do you know where Victor Ford is?” she asked sharply.

 

Carlton spit on the ground with a look of utter disgust on his face. “I’m not going to tell you anything, bitch.”

 

Skye let her hand that was not holding the gun flare blue. “Well, then I guess I’ll have to make you tell me.”

 

He flinched back a little as she slowly brought her hand closer to his face and shook his head. “No, wait.” he said. “He’s supposed to call me, today. I have my phone…” He reached for his pocket and Skye knew something was wrong, this had been too easy, but before she could react there was a knife in his hand and he lunged forward.

 

The blade cut through her jeans and she let out a string of curses as she felt warm blood run down her thigh. Damn, that bastard was good.

 

For a while, they fought fiercely, with no one managing to place any solid hits. Skye didn’t want to use her powers again – because another power surge could make his heart stop and maybe he did have some information about Ford – and Carlton was obviously heavily trained in martial arts just like she was. But he was only human, had just taken a blast of electricity right to the chest and had crashed into a solid brick wall head first, so his movements quickly got slower and less coordinated.

 

As soon as she had managed to kick the knife out of his hand, it was easy. In the blink of an eye, she had him pinned against the wall, his own knife at his throat and a gun to his head.

 

“Now”, she said with a cold smile, “tell me everything you know about Victor Ford.”

 

It was almost four o’clock when she finally got back into her car, her chest burning like fire at every breath and her clothes stained with blood.

 

Neither Carlton nor the other guy – who had come back to consciousness disoriented and scared to death – had told her anything about Victor Ford that she didn’t already know. The man was a phantom, barely more than a ghost, didn’t even show himself to his own people, and not for the first time, Skye asked herself how she was ever supposed find him.

 

Her phone beeped, effectively interrupting her thoughts. It was a text by Derek, only two words. _You okay?_

Skye smiled and felt a sudden warmth spread in her stomach at the thought of him worrying about her (or maybe he was just impatient, but well, a girl could dream). She texted back immediately, her fingers almost flying over the keypad. _On my way back. Should be there in about an hour and a half._

Derek’s answer came only seconds later. _How did it go?_

Skye replied with a smirk on her lips. _Well, he’s dead. I think that’s a success._

There was no answer after that, so she turned on her car and started driving. She would never admit it, especially not to him, but she looked forward to seeing Derek. Somehow, his green eyes and his rare smile always managed to get her thoughts off Victor Ford.

 

* * *

 

 

The alarm in Derek’s loft went off exactly one hour and twenty-six minutes later.

 

When Skye entered, he immediately noticed the dried blood on her clothes and that she was moving very carefully, as if every movement hurt. He had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and make sure she was okay.

 

She gave him a tired smile as she slowly walked over to the couch and sat down. Derek started talking right away. “There was a murder, last night.”

 

Her eyebrows shot up. “Well, I didn’t do it, if that’s what you’re going to ask next.” Strangely, she sounded hurt, disappointed that he would suspect her, and he quickly kept talking to remove the misunderstanding. “I know you didn’t. Point is, we don’t know what did, and I thought you might have seen something like this before.”

 

Something like relief grazed across her face for a moment before she said: “I’m going to need a bit more information.”

 

So he started telling her, about the carvings and the weird smell and the lack of wounds, and when he finished, there was a frown on her face. “Can you tell me exactly what the symbols looked like?” she asked.

 

Derek reached for his phone. “Stiles send me a picture… wait… there.” She took one look and immediately gave a deep, exasperated sigh. “Well, shit.” she declared, and now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Do you know what this means?”

 

Skye nodded. “It’s Chinese. It means death. And I think I know what this is.” Carefully, she sat up straight. “I need my laptop from my car. My family’s beastiary is on it.” She attempted to get up but hissed in pain at the too quick movement, and instinctively, Derek’s hand shot forward to hold her back.

 

“I’ll get it.” he said. She looked at him with a look he could not quite interpret. “You don’t…” He interrupted her. “You’re hurt, I’ll get it. There’s coffee in the kitchen.” With that, he turned around and left the loft.

 

Outside, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulder. For a moment there, when Skye had looked at him with her dark brown eyes and the ghost of a smile on her face, he’d thought about kissing her. And some part of him was sure that thoughts like this would get him – or worse, her – hurt again.

 


	12. Eleven

****

When he came back inside with her laptop, she had taken off her shoes and helped herself to a steaming cup of coffee. There was a gun on the table which he was sure was hers – he didn’t own any guns – and she sat cross-legged on the sofa, her dark hair that had previously been in a ponytail falling down her back.

 

He handed her the laptop as he sat down next to her and she immediately opened it and started typing, mumbling a thank you. Within just a few seconds, the screen showed something that reminded Derek very much of a page from the Argent’s beastiary, complete with barely readable writing and obscure drawings and pictures, and Skye scrolled through page after page so fast that he could hardly recognize anything until she stopped abruptly.

 

Derek took one look and immediately knew that this was what they were looking for. Right at the top of the page was a drawing of a body, the same symbols as the body they’d found last night carved into its chest.

 

“Et voila.” Skye said and leaned a little closer, tilting the laptop towards him so he could see better. Her arm brushed against his and he caught the scent of something sweet – strawberry maybe; probably her shampoo – and suddenly he had to focus very hard on breathing. Her voice snapped him out of it. “What you’re looking for is a jiangshi.”

 

Derek’s gaze turned away from the picture to the writing next to it and he gave a deep sigh as he realized the text was written in symbols he could not read. “Of course it’s not in English.” he said sarcastically.

 

Skye chuckled quietly but stopped when it made her flinch in pain. He eyed her worriedly but she did not seem too concerned as she said: “It’s Chinese, just like the symbols carved into the body. It says that a jiangshi is a corpse possessed by an evil spirit that kills people by absorbing their qi, their life force.”

 

Surprised, Derek looked at her. “You know Chinese?” Her answer came abruptly. “Yeah. My mum was from China. She made sure my brother and I knew the language.”

 

It was the first time that she’d directly mentioned her family, and all of the sudden, pain and grief and guilt were all too visible on her face. Again, Derek felt the urge to pull her close and make sure no one ever hurt her again, but instead, he forced himself to look at the text about the jiangshi. “Does it say how to kill it?”

 

Skye nodded, apparently thankful for the change of topic. “Yes. The jiangshi is only active at night. During the day, it remains in its grave. You just have to burn it and it’s gone.”

 

He snorted. “That seems easy. Except for the fact that he have no freaking clue whose body this thing is possessing, so there’s really no way to find its grave.”

 

She smiled at him. “Of course there is.” she said. “You just greatly underestimate my abilities. Not only can I kick major ass, I’m also great with computers. Let’s see…” Her fingers started dancing across the keyboard, letters and numbers appearing faster than Derek could read, and within a few minutes, she had a list of names.

 

“Those are all the people that died in Beacon Hills in the last month.” she explained. “Now, it says here that only people who have some unfinished business become jiangshis, so I’m going to rule out everyone who died of natural causes…” – a few more clicks – “which leaves us with three names, of whom two were cremated.”

 

She turned to him with a triumphant grin. “Ralph Arlington is your guy. And he’s buried on Beacon Hills Cemetery. “

 

Impressed – though he wouldn’t admit that, at least not openly – he looked at her before slowly pulling out his phone. “I’ll call Scott.” he said. “And tell him that he’ll have to dig up a grave tomorrow, because I’m definitely not going to get arrested for grave robbery.”

 

To his surprise, Skye giggled, a sound he’d never heard her make, and she looked absolutely adorable, her eyes sparkling and her lips curling up towards a bright smile. However, she flinched in pain almost immediately – broken ribs, he guessed – and he acted without thinking. He just wanted to hear her make that sound again without being in pain.

 

His hand gently touched hers and with a strangely hoarse voice he said: “I can take the pain away, you know.” Skye did not say anything, just looked at him with her warm brown eyes that suddenly seemed very vulnerable, and black veins started appearing on his arm as he took her pain, his gaze never leaving hers.

 

She let out a relieved breath when he was done and whispered: “Thank you.”

 

Derek just nodded and got up abruptly, his phone still in hand. He felt like Skye was everywhere, everything he could see or feel or hear, and it was just too much.  “I’ll go call Scott.” he murmured, vaguely gesturing towards the door, before he stepped out of the loft a little too fast.

 

When he came back, Skye was fast asleep. Her laptop was still open and still on her lap, but she had shifted so she was lying down and her breathing was calm and regular.

 

Derek could not help but smile. She looked incredibly young in her sleep, and for the first time, he saw her face without the pain and guilt he was so used to because he saw it every time he looked in the mirror. He knew he should probably wake her up and take her home – she was in no condition to drive herself – but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. For the first time since he knew her, she looked peaceful, and he knew from experience that peaceful sleep was a rare and precious thing.

 

So he took her laptop, turned it off and placed it on the table before grabbing a blanket and gently placing it over her. He gave her one last smile before he headed over to his own bed in the corner of the loft.

 

For the first time in months, he fell asleep quickly and did not have any nightmares, and he wondered if it was someone else’s presence in the room that made him feel safer than he’d felt in a while.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott didn’t know whether he should be relieved or annoyed.

 

On one hand, they now knew what was responsible for the man’s death and how to stop it – though how Derek had found out was still a mystery to him; the older werewolf had simply said that he’d asked a friend for help and had left it at that – but on the other hand, he wasn’t too keen on spending his Friday afternoon digging up a body. He was also not sure that, if they got caught, the Sheriff would buy the explanation that they were only trying to get rid of some sort of evil Chinese spirit.

 

Sighing, Scott dropped onto his bed and buried his head in his pillow. “Goddammit!” he groaned. “How the hell is this my life?”

 

An amused chuckle had him sit up abruptly. His mom was standing in the doorway, glancing down at him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation on her face. “You know, I frequently ask myself the same question.” she said. “Having a teenaged werewolf for a son – not the way I expected my life to go. But hey, it could be worse.”

 

She smiled at him and as he smiled back, he wanted nothing more than to confide in his mom once again, to tell her everything that was bothering him – the twins, the Chinese spirit whatever and the whole freaking Alpha thing – to simply unload all his problems on her and know that she would find a solution like she always had, but well, he wasn’t a kid anymore.

 

He was almost eighteen, he was going to be a senior after summer and he was an Alpha. It wasn’t his mom’s job to protect him anymore. It was his job to protect everyone else now. And he would do his very best to not fail at this job.

 

“Yeah.” he said. “It could be worse.”

 

His mom sat down on his bed beside him and gave him a wide, tired grin. “Want to order pizza and eat microwave popcorn in our pajamas while watching crappy old movies like we used to when you were sick?”

 

Scott chuckled. Suddenly, he felt less worried, like everything would somehow be ok. Maybe this – making him feel okay – would forever be him mom’s job.

 

“Yes.” he said. “I absolutely want to.”


	13. Twelve

When Skye woke up, she didn’t know where she was.

 

Panic threatened to take over her body as she stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and her hands were about to flare blue with electricity, just in case she had to defend herself, before her memories came back at once and she realized where she was. In Derek’s loft. She vaguely remembered him going outside to talk to Scott, and that was it. Apparently, she had just fallen asleep on his couch after that.

 

Skye groaned as she sat up. A wave of affection flooded her body as she noticed the blanket that Derek had probably put over as soon as she’d fallen asleep and she smiled before stifling a yawn.

 

“Good morning.”

 

She turned around abruptly. Derek was standing in the middle of the room, two steaming cups in his hand and the ghost of a smile on his face.

 

“Good morning.” she replied, getting up from the couch with stiff legs. Embarrassment that she’d just fallen asleep in Derek’s loft almost made her blush as she looked at him, but she couldn’t deny that this, though arguably less comfortable than her bed, had been the first goodnight’s sleep in a while.

 

“I’m sorry I just fell asleep, I…” she said, but Derek interrupted her. “Don’t worry about it.” he said. “You were hurt and tired. Perfectly understandable.”

 

She smiled at him and he smiled back, his whole face lighting up before holding out one of the cups to her. “Coffee?” he asked and she almost moaned. “Yes, please.”

 

For a few minutes, they drank their coffee in silence – both having sat down on the couch again – but suddenly, Skye felt the inexplicable urge to tell Derek everything that had happened; her family’s death, her hunt for Victor Ford, how she’d killed Carlton yesterday. He hadn’t asked her for details when she’d said that she was attempting to assassinate someone, hadn’t doubted her for one moment, and that overwhelming trust in her made her feel like she could tell him anything.

 

The words started flowing from her mouth before she could even think about what she was going to say. “The man I killed yesterday… he was a Guardian.” Her voice sounded weirdly small and slowly, very slowly, Derek set down his cup on the table. “Who are the Guardians?” he asked, his deep voice oddly calming.

 

“A group of hunters.” she explained. “They call themselves Guardians because they believe they are protecting the world from people like me.” For the fraction of a second, Derek clenched his fists, and when she looked at his face, she was a little confused. Was that… anger?

 

“They killed your family.” It wasn’t a question, and Skye almost flinched at the mention of her family. “Yes.” she answered, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It was a bomb in our house. Everyone in there died. My parents, my brother, my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, my cousins. I was the only one who survived, because I wasn’t home.”

 

She took a deep breath and did her best to keep the memories from flooding her mind before she kept talking. “I spend the last few years destroying the Guardians… and hunting down their leader. Victor Ford. He is the man behind all of this. “

 

Derek did not say anything, just looked at her – really _looked_ at her – and Skye kept talking, finally telling someone about everything she’d held in since her family’s death. “Yesterday, I tracked one of their remaining members down. His real name was Ben Carlton. I found him in Mendota and I thought he might know something about Ford, but he didn’t, so I killed him. I… I couldn’t let him live. There aren’t many Guardians left now, but they are still hunting me.”

 

She bit her lip. “It’s been four years, but I’m still not a step closer to finding Ford. He’s like a ghost and I can’t… I can’t…” She stopped mid-sentence, taking a few shaky breaths and trying very hard to stop her hands from trembling.

 

Once again, silence filled the room. Skye was doing everything she could to keep herself from losing the last bit of composure she had left and she didn’t dare to look at Derek, though she could feel his oddly calming presence next to her. Finally, after a few moments that seemed like an eternity, she squared her shoulders and got up abruptly.

 

“I should go.” she said, still without looking at Derek. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

 

She started to walk toward the door but Derek’s voice had her stop in her tracks. “Her name was Kate.”

 

Slowly, she turned around again and looked at him. He’d stood up as well and the pain on his face was barely hidden, his eyes filled with guilt and grief and agony, but when he continued talking, his voice was as calm as ever.

 

“The woman who killed my family – her name was Kate. She was a hunter, an Argent. She seduced me and then she burned down our house. Only I, my two sisters and my uncle made it out alive. She, Kate, she’s dead now, but that doesn’t bring any of them back. They’re gone. And I’m not even the one who killed her.”

 

His voice cracked a little towards the end and Skye acted without thinking. In the blink of an eye, she crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck. His body tensed abruptly, but after a second he started hugging her back, his strong arms wrapping around her body. She could feel his heartbeat, could smell the unique scent that she’d come to associate with him, and she felt like she could stay in this embrace forever.

 

Still, she eventually pulled away – after a period of time that was much too long to still count as fully platonic – and looked up to him. “I’m sorry about your family.” she said.

 

He gave her a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry about yours.”

 

* * *

 

 

For the first time since the Alpha pack, the voices startled Lydia awake.

 

They practically screamed at her from the shadows of her room in countless languages she did not understand, and she buried her head in her hands and focused on breathing until the voices faded to a steady whisper in the background. She didn’t try to make out what they were saying because she was pretty sure that she already knew.

 

Scott had called late yesterday evening to tell her that Derek had figured out what Beacon Hills’ newest monster was – a corpse possessed by a Chinese demon, and Lydia’s life was such a crazy shit-show that she accepted this without questioning – and how they could kill it, but he’d also said that it could only be tracked down during the day and would probably hunt again that night, so Lydia was sure that if she’d listened to the voices, they would tell her exactly where she could find the body – something she definitely did not want to do.

 

Lydia got up sighing and glanced at the clock. It was a little after four o’clock, but she was certain that the voices would not let her go back to sleep, so she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

 

Lost in her thoughts, she stared out of the window. Not for the first time she yearned for High School to be over already, to go off to college and never set foot into this godforsaken town ever again, but even though she technically already had all the credits she needed to graduate early, she couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not while her friends – _her pack_ – still needed her.

 

She took a sip and almost spit it out immediately. It tasted like blood, and suddenly the voices were back even louder than before. The whispered her name, screamed at her to listen, and Lydia clenched her fists until she could feel warm blood where her fingernails dug into her palms.

 

“Leave me alone.” Lydia begged, but of course the voices didn’t listen. She could almost feel invisible hands tugging at her, tearing through her skin, forcing her to hear, to feel, to sense, to _listen._

 

“Blood, death, pain, destruction.” they murmured, and Lydia flinched at every word. “They are coming to hunt, to scavenge, _to kill_. Someone will die – she will die. _She will die_.”

 

The glass fell to the ground and shattered into a million pieces.

 

Lydia sat trembling, staring into the darkness without really seeing anything. For the fraction of a moment, a picture flashed before her eye and as she caught a glimpse at a woman she’d never seen before, she knew for a fact that this woman was going to die.

 

She forced herself to move and grabbed her phone. Whatever the voices had been talking about, it hadn’t been the Chinese demon thing. The words “they are coming” echoed through her head, and she dialed Scott’s number as fast as she could.

 

Whoever “they” were, she felt like her Alpha needed to know about their impending arrival.


	14. Thirteen

Four days later, Derek fought the overwhelming desire to satisfy his anger by slamming his fist against a wall.

 

Peter had just called to tell him that he’d run into another werewolf one town over, an Alpha without a pack named Archer Hardy that had always hated the Hales because he wanted their territory, and even though Derek did not trust his uncle in the slightest, Peter had no reason whatsoever to make this up, which meant he had to do something about Hardy.

 

When his mother had still been alive, he had met Hardy once and had immediately known why Talia wanted him nowhere near her territory. The other werewolf was greedy, stopped at nothing to get what he wanted and his own betas had preferred to run away and look for another pack, even at the danger of him tracking them down and killing them. So Derek had no doubt as to why Hardy was here – he’d probably heard that there was no more Hale Alpha and wanted to claim their territory.

 

Derek knew that it was best to make it clear to Hardy that Beacon Hills was off limit for him before it even came to a fight, but he also knew that he couldn’t do that on his own. Hardy might not have a pack, but he was still an Alpha, and Derek wasn’t too confident that he could beat him one on one. He didn’t want to involve Scott and his pack, because they had enough on their plate already, and Peter was out because he didn’t trust him to watch his back, so that left him with only one option. One person who he would trust with his life and who was perfectly able to hold her own against a werewolf.

 

He sighed, took a look at the clock – it was an acceptable time to call her, other than the last time he’d needed her help – and dialed Skye’s number.

 

She picked up after a few seconds. “This is the almighty witch of Beacon Hills. How may I help you today?”

 

He stifled a laugh. “Almighty, huh? I’m not sure I believe that. And didn’t you say you don’t like to be called a witch?”

 

She giggled – _how he adored that sound_ – and answered in an overly dramatic voice. “Why do you always have to criticize my jokes? I’m trying so hard here to get a laugh out of Mr. Grumpy Wolf.” He grinned and her own smile was audible in her voice as she added: “But seriously, what is it?”

 

“A werewolf who used to be one of my mother’s rivals is here.” he explained. “I need to make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble, but I could use some back up. And since I’m Mr. Grumpy Wolf, there aren’t a lot of people willing to help me.”

 

This time, she full-out laughed. “I’m going to mark that day.” she said. “Derek Hale just made a joke. I didn’t think I would live to see that.” There was a small pause and he could practically see her smirk as she asked: “Do you want me to suit up? Leather catsuit and all?”

 

Derek gulped and was suddenly very glad that Skye couldn’t see him, because the image of her in a catsuit was doing things to him that he’d rather not have her – or anyone, for that matter – know about. “I think it’ll be enough if you just bring your gun.” he said dryly, and he had a feeling that she knew exactly what was going on in his head as she replied: “Okay then, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” before ending the call.

 

When she arrived, she wasn’t wearing a catsuit but jeans, a white shirt and a leather jacket – which Derek was thankful for, because otherwise he didn’t think he could’ve focused on Hardy. Still, he wondered where the hell she was hiding away her gun – he knew she was carrying one; he could smell the gun powder – as he couldn’t make it out anywhere.

 

Derek had waited for her outside in his Camaro, and as she got in and dropped down on the passenger seat, she gave him a bright smile. “Let’s go scare the shit out of that guy.” she declared and he just nodded.

 

Her sweet scent flooded the car and once again – a habit of his lately – he thought about kissing her for one split second.

 

* * *

 

 

They didn’t drive long, only to the next town over. On the way there, Derek told her a little about Archer Hardy – which, she learned, was the other werewolf’s name – and just from that information she was already looking forward to kicking his ass.

 

Derek parked in front of a motel that reminded Skye a lot of the motel Carlton had checked into and she instinctively put a hand to her ribs. Of course, they were perfectly healed – had been a day after her fight against Carlton – and after Derek had taken her pain, she had been able to sleep without them bothering her too much, but she still wasn’t too keen on getting them broken again. Broken ribs hurt like hell and unlike simple flesh wounds, bone fractures took at least twelve hours to fully heal.

 

Skye shook off the thought and got out of the car. Her gun was cold against her back, tucked safely into her waistband, but she didn’t think she was going to need it. Derek had said that he didn’t want to seriously hurt this Hardy guy, just wanted to make it clear to him that, for his sake, he should stay out of Beacon Hills, and a gun – especially one filled with wolfsbane bullets; she hadn’t wanted to risk anything – was more of a fatal weapon.

 

The woman at the reception desk was in her forties and looked like she might have been pretty once but had long since passed her best days. Derek attempted to walk towards her, but Skye held him back. He wasn’t much of a talker – she knew that much by now – so his tactic for convincing the woman to give them Hardy’s room number was probably glaring at her until she was too terrified to object, and Skye was confident she could do better – preferably without scaring the poor woman out of her mind.

 

“I got it.” she hissed and to her surprise, Derek stood back without protesting as she walked towards the desk and gave the woman a bright smile.

 

“Hi.” she said. “I’m looking for my boyfriend. His name is Archer Hardy. Could you tell me his room number?”

 

The woman only now raised her gaze from the crossword she was solving and gave her a look that could only be described as bored. “I can’t give room numbers to strangers. Sorry.” she said.

 

Skye gave an overly dramatic, desperate sigh. “See, he technically isn’t my boyfriend anymore. I broke up with him five days ago and that would be fine, because he’s a total douchebag, but the thing is, he took this watch with him that I gave to him for our first anniversary. It belonged to my dad and I would very much like to have it back, because my dad was a total sweetheart and did not screw an underage yoga teacher behind my mom’s back and Archer… well, he’s quite the opposite, so he doesn’t deserve that watch _at all_.” She took a deep breath as if she’d been carried away by her frustration and rage and gave the woman another pleading look. “Please?” she asked with a pout. “I just want the watch back.”

 

The woman stared at her for a second and then smiled at her sympathetically. “Room 32.” she said and hesitated for a brief moment before she slid a key over the counter. “Here.” she added. “Surprise that bastard. But don’t tell anyone I gave you the key. And give him a kick in the balls from me.”

 

Skye gave a wide grin as she grabbed the key. “I will.” she said. “Thank you so much, really.” And with that, she turned to Derek and motioned for him to follow her as she walked down the corridor towards room 32.

 

“That was quite impressive.” he admitted as soon as they were out of the woman’s earshot and Skye smirked. “I took drama in High School.” she replied. “And I wanted to be a Hollywood actress when I was younger. Mainly because I knew I would rule at doing my own fight scenes.”

 

Derek chuckled – a very rare sound that Skye would give anything to hear more often – and started to say something but stopped abruptly as he set eyes on the door to room 32.

 

Silently, Skye handed him the key. If Hardy heard them before they entered the room, they would lose the element of surprise – though with his werewolf hearing, it was possible he’d heard them already; Skye didn’t know how good exactly those werewolf senses were.

 

She stood behind Derek as he very quietly slid the key into the lock. The barely audible crackle of electricity filled the corridor as sparks flared up between her fingers instinctively, and then he turned the key.


	15. Fourteen

Stiles flinched as the classroom door slammed shut with a loud bang. 

Ever since Lydia had told them that someone – an enemy pack, most likely – was coming to Beacon Hills and that they were out for blood, Stiles was uncharacteristically jumpy, fearing a threat around every corner and his heart skipping a beat at every sudden noise. It did little to calm him that Lydia had been trembling the whole time while describing what she’d heard, saying that she wasn’t sure if the woman she’d seen was the only person who was going to die. 

And even if so, Stiles was tired of seeing innocent people die because of all the supernatural shit that went on in Beacon Hills. He knew for a fact that Scott felt the same way, because his best friend’s face had shown a mixture of guilt and determination when Lydia had mentioned the young woman who was doomed to die. They would save that woman; that was the silent promise they’d made to each other in that moment. 

His heartbeat that had skyrocketed at the sudden noise slowly calmed down again and he tried to focus on the teacher, but his thought drifted away again almost immediately and as he glanced at Scott, he was sure that he was also not listening to a single word the teacher said. 

Stiles knew all too well that Scott saw it as his responsibility to make sure that everyone – including the nameless woman – made it out alive and that his best friend had a tendency for trying to figure everything out on his own, which was probably why right now his face looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

When they’d discussed what they would do next about four days ago, Stiles had proposed to ask Derek for help – who had been a werewolf much longer than Scott and who also had more fighting experience – but his friend had declined, on the grounds that Derek wasn’t part of their pack and that he shouldn’t be bothered with their worries. Stiles – with a little support from Isaac, who was still loyal to his former Alpha to some extent – had tried to convince Scott otherwise, but the young Alpha hadn’t given in. (Stiles suspected that Scott still distrusted Derek for everything that happened with Jennifer and the Alpha pack, though in his eyes, that wasn’t justified at all.)

Still, even though Stiles wasn’t a werewolf, Scott was his Alpha as well as his best friend, so he hadn’t gone and talked to Derek behind his back (though he’d considered it briefly). And Scott was probably right. They would a find a way. They always did.

Nevertheless, Stiles flinched again as the teacher interrupted his thoughts with a sharp “Stilinski!” 

Frankly, he didn’t think that in this town, he would ever stop being a little jumpy. 

* * *

 

Hardy – probably in his forties, with thick brown hair and beard and tall even sitting down – sat in a chair facing the door and gave them a wide, condescending smile as they entered, evidently already having expected them. 

“Well, well, who do we have here?” he said. Huh. Skye hadn’t expected him to be British. “The infamous Derek Hale. And who is that pretty girl you brought with you?”

Skye refrained from replying, even though she liked Hardy less with every second she had to look at his arrogant face. Her hand twitched towards her gun and she had to suppress the urge to put a bullet through his knee just because she could. 

Derek next to her shifted a little – a barely perceivable movement, but he was now standing between her and Hardy and Skye couldn’t deny the wave of affection flooding her body at his protectiveness, even though she didn’t need protection – and answered, his voice a low growl. 

“What are you doing here, Hardy?” 

The other werewolf chuckled and got up, and his full height was quite impressive. Derek already had a good eight inches on her, and Hardy was a least three inches taller than Derek, so he towered over her, smiling down at her suggestively before turning back to Derek. 

“What do you think I’m doing, Hale?” he asked casually, as if this was nothing more than a talk between friends. “You’re not an Alpha anymore, so you don’t have any claim to this territory. And you know I’ve always fancied this particular little town.” 

“Beacon Hills isn’t yours.” Derek snarled. Skye had never heard his voice hold such venom, and she really couldn’t blame him. Hardy seemed to have a talent for getting under peoples’ skins, for pushing all the right buttons to make them angry and therefore unfocused and easier to beat. But even though Hardy was an Alpha and she could tell that Derek was very close to losing control, she didn’t think the other werewolf so powerful that he could beat her and Derek combined. She wasn’t worried. 

Again, Hardy chuckled and the sound made her skin crawl with annoyance. “Not yet, but it isn’t yours either.” he retorted and his grin grew even wider. “So it’s mine for taking.”

Derek clenched his fists and Skye could see that his claws were already extended, ready to attack at any moment. “There is a pack in Beacon Hills.” he said, his voice suddenly very calm and weirdly much more threatening than before. “And you’re invading their territory.” 

Hardy snorted. “I’ve heard of them. A bunch of teenagers, probably still licking their wounds after their little encounter with Deucalion. They won’t be a problem.”

Strangely, Derek smiled, though it looked a lot more like he was baring his teeth. “You know, Deucalion came at them with a whole pack of Alphas and they were the ones who came out victorious. Do you really think you can take them?” 

The other werewolf rolled his eyes, turning away from Derek and instead facing Skye, his cold grey eyes meeting hers. “Your boyfriend here is being a little uncooperative.” he said. “Maybe you will be more reasonable. What’s your name?” 

Skye gave him a wide fake smile and when she answered, her voice was laced with honey but spiked with contempt. “That’s none of your business.” 

Hardy laughed and licked his lips, making Skye feel the sudden urge to throw up. “Oh, you’re a sassy one.” he said. “I like that.” There was a brief pause and Skye thought she saw Hardy’s eyes flicker towards Derek for the fraction of a second, but before she could think about what that meant, he smirked and took a single step towards her, giving her a suggestive wink. “Maybe after I’ve taken out your boyfriend, I’ll have a little fun with you. I would love to hear you scream for me.”

Skye could see the exact moment Derek snapped. Her hands flared up blue but before she had the chance to do anything he lunged forward, fully transformed now, and went straight for Hardy’s throat. 

* * *

 

Craig Hall had finally found who he had been looking for. 

He had travelled all the way to Philadelphia to tell them about his experiences in Beacon Hills for two reason – first, he knew that they would pay him plenty of money for that kind of information, and second, that way he would get his revenge on that stupid young Alpha and the woman who had knocked him out without ever having to get his hands dirty. 

Craig wasn’t a particular good fighter and while he possessed a certain cunning, he wasn’t exactly smart, but he had always had a talent for manipulating other people into doing his dirty work. That was how – even as an Omega – he’d managed to survive for so long and that was also how he’d learned about the existence of the Scavengers in the first place. 

And now here he was, waiting to talk to their leader inside a heavily guarded building on the outskirts of Philadelphia. 

The door on the far end of the room opened and a young man – a werewolf, no doubt – entered. He was tall and well-built, probably in his early twenties and with long blond hair that he’d tied back into a bun. He smelt like he’d only been turned recently, but the grace with which he moved through the room looked like he’d been a predator all his life. 

The young werewolf came to a halt in front of Craig and eyed him skeptically before nodding his head slightly. “She will see you now.” he said, turning around abruptly and motioning for him to follow. 

Craig hesitated for a moment. He hadn’t expected the Scavengers’ leader to be a woman, but then he shrugged and followed the man towards the door he’d entered through.

As long as he got paid, he didn’t care. 


	16. Fifteen

Skye barely kept herself from joining into the fight between the two werewolves. She had to remind herself that this was Derek’s fight, that he’d only brought her for back-up, especially as Hardy’s claws got dangerously close to slitting Derek’s throat.

 

With a strange sense of pride, she noticed that some of the motion sequences Derek used were ones that she frequently used in their playful fights against each other. (After that first defeat, Derek hadn’t given up trying to beat her. He never had, not yet, but he’d come very close a few times.)

 

The two men were eerily quiet while they fought, making no noises but an occasional growl or grunt, so that Skye was almost surprised when Hardy threw Derek across the room and the table he landed on broke with the loud splinter of wood. He scrambled back to his feet immediately but Hardy was faster, and his claws tore into Derek’s side, leaving splatters of blood on the floor.

 

Derek hissed in pain and Skye was immediately ready to attack, red hot anger flooding her body – he’d hurt Derek and she wanted him _dead_ for that – but before she could, Derek was upright again, slamming into Hardy with all his weight. He pushed him against the wall, one hand curling around his throat just like he’d done to her when they’d first met – an eternity ago, it seemed.

 

Hardy only grinned, baring his fangs, and his features began to shift and change, becoming even more animalistic, but before he could break free of Derek’s grip, Skye was there, pressing her hand to his chest and shooting a blast of electricity into his body. He growled in pain, his body convulsing in violent cramps, but his face was still that of a monster, so she increased the power until his fangs and claws disappeared and he was completely human again.

 

Derek loosened his grip on him and Hardy barely kept himself upright, his cocky attitude giving way to pure fear. “What are you?” he hissed into her direction, eyes never meeting hers.

 

Skye smiled. “Never underestimate a pretty girl.” she said. “More powerful men than you have made that mistake.”

 

Hardy took a step backwards, perhaps more unconsciously than not, and his gaze flickered to Derek once more. “What do you want?” he asked hoarsely.

 

Derek grinned, mimicking Hardy’s cruel and condescending demeanor. “I want you to never come near Beacon Hills ever again. And believe me, this was only a taste of what we’ll do to you if you do.”

 

The other werewolf drew in a trembling breath and Skye knew immediately that they had won. Hardy was too utterly defeated, too humiliated to ever set foot into Beacon Hills again. “Fine.” he huffed out and Derek smiled contently and full of disgust. “Get out of here. Now. Before she” – a small nod towards her – “decides to make you scream for her.”

 

In response, Skye let her palm flare up blue with a smirk and Hardy flinched. He was out of the room in a matter of seconds and didn’t even bother taking the bag on the bed with him.

 

As soon as he was gone, Skye turned to Derek and eyes him worriedly. “Are you okay?” she asked, her gaze flickering towards the bloody claw marks in his side. He nodded. “Yeah, just a scratch. It’ll heal.” His eyes met hers. “You?” She scoffed. “That guy was all talk and nothing behind it. He almost pissed his pants as soon as you had him pinned against the wall.”

 

There was a brief pause before she said: “We’re a good team.” Derek smiled at her – a real smile that made his whole face light up and not one of those cold, cruel ones he’d given Hardy – and it made her feel weirdly warm and fuzzy inside. “We are.” he agreed.

 

Skye spoke without thinking. All she knew was that she didn’t want to go back to the loneliness of her cold and empty apartment just yet. “Celebratory drinks?” she asked. “I’m paying.”

 

Derek chuckled. “Well then, how can I say no?”

 

* * *

 

 

They found themselves at Hadley’s less than an hour later.

 

The deep cuts in his side were aching, sending burning pain through his body every time he moved. He didn’t know why he’d lied to Skye – well, technically he hadn’t; the wounds would heal eventually but it would take more time than usual because they had been made by an Alpha. But the worried look in her eyes and the way he’d heard her heart jump when Hardy had injured him had made it impossible for him to tell her that he was in pain. Besides, it wasn’t that bad. He’d had worse.

 

He ordered a scotch and hoped that the alcohol would stay in his bloodstream long enough to ease the pain. She ordered a beer and looked at him strangely. “So, Archer knew your mother?” she asked.

 

He nodded and then he started talking. He didn’t know why it was so easy to talk to her, why the words just kept flowing. She just sat there and listened and her presence was oddly reassuring, keeping him from breaking down even as he told her about Kate and his family’s death and his time as an Alpha – memories he usually kept as far away as possible.

 

When he told her about Peter and what he’d done, she looked impossibly angry, and he thought that it would probably be very entertaining to see the two meet. He had a feeling that she would break more than a few of his bones. (She was _protective_ of him, he realized, something he wasn’t used to. Usually he was the one trying to protect people – but failing miserably at it – and it was a nice change to be on the receiving end for once.)

 

She downed the rest of her beer in one sip when he told her the whole story with Kate and murmured something along the lines of “that bitch is lucky she’s already dead”, probably thinking he wouldn’t hear her. But he did, and suddenly he felt warm and protected and safe.

 

The story of how he’d lost his pack made her eyes dark with sympathy and her hand brushed against his for a moment. Once again, he caught himself wanting to pull her close and kiss her and never let her go, and he tried to convince himself that it was just because she was undeniably gorgeous. (But there was a part of his brain that compared it to what he’d felt for Paige and Kate and Jennifer, and this was different. This was so very different. He decided to ignore that part.)

 

He thought of the time she’d hugged him just before she’d left his loft and how her body had felt against his, and it took all of his self-control to banish those thought from his head.

 

It was late when they left the bar and when they passed the pizza place right next door, Derek realized that he hadn’t eaten anything since this morning. He stopped abruptly and gestured towards it. “You hungry?” he asked.

 

Skye’s gaze flickered to the pizza place and she smiled broadly. “I’m starving.” she replied. “Can’t live on alcohol alone.” he murmured under his breath, teasing her only because he wanted to see her laugh, and she indeed did. “You don’t get to talk.” she said with a grin. “Scotch is much stronger than beer and besides we both know neither of us can get drunk.”

 

He chuckled but didn’t say anything more before they entered. There were only a handful of people inside and they sat down at a table in the far corner of the room. Derek noticed that Skye had picked out a table from which they could both see the door, and not for the first time he thought that they had much more in common than it seemed.

 

They both dug in as soon as the waitress put their pizzas in front of them, and then Skye started talking.

 

She told him about her family, about all the different powers they’d had – like her brother, who had been able to manipulate gravity, or her father, who’d had the ability to create clones of himself – and Derek wondered how he had never known about their existence.

 

She told him about the war between Guardians and gifted people that had been going on for years and about how Victor Ford had united them and lead them to their victory. She told him how she’d come home one day to find her family blown to pieces and her home nothing more than a pile of rubble. She told him about all the terrible things she’d done in her vendetta against the Guardians and how Victor Ford, the man who was responsible for everything, was like a phantom.

 

Suddenly, he understood the hate in her eyes when he’d talked about Kate. Because even though he’d never met Ford, he felt the sudden urge to tear his heart out.


	17. Sixteen

****

It was close to midnight when they got up.

 

Derek staggered a little, a wave of pain shooting through his body, and Skye was next to him immediately. “Are you okay?” she asked worriedly. He looked to his hand that he’d instinctively pressed to his side and saw black blood oozing out between his fingers. Swaying a little, he reached for the table to keep his knees from giving out.

 

Skye saw the blood too and her eyes went wide. “You said it would heal!” she hissed, obviously trying to sound angry, but her worry was evident in her voice. Derek blinked, trying to clear his thoughts. He didn’t know why he hadn’t felt the blood loss before, but now it was hitting him full force. “It’s because they’re from an Alpha.” he murmured. “They take more time to heal.”

 

“Shit!” Skye cursed, then she said: “I’ll take you to my place and stitch you up. Come on.”

 

Derek followed her outside, his arm around her shoulders, and he would’ve probably enjoyed the contact more if it hadn’t been because she was supporting almost half his weight.

 

She manhandled him into the passenger seat of his Camaro and took the keys from his pocket, and he didn’t protest, because he knew he was in no condition to drive. “I’m sorry.” he said, because he felt like he should – and also he hated seeing her like this, her beautiful face marked with worry – and she just shot him a look while starting the car. “You should’ve told me earlier.” she said, but she didn’t sound angry. More… scared? Derek wasn’t used to people being scared for him. He liked it. Maybe a little too much.

 

The drive to her apartment didn’t take long. It was a plain, slightly run-down building and as soon as he’d made it up the stairs to her apartment on the first floor, he collapsed on her sofa and she disappeared into another room. He heard Skye rummaging through a cupboard and when she came back, she was holding a first-aid kit and tossed him a pill bottle.

 

He barely caught it and turned it to read the label. Vicodin. “What is that?”

 

She shrugged. “I can’t take your pain, but I got those. They’re pretty strong, strong enough to work on me, so I guess they’ll work on you too. I’ll wait for them to kick in before I stitch you up.”

 

Something inside of him fluttered but his answer came quick, almost out of instinct. “I can take it.”

 

Skye gave him a small, sad smile. “I know you can. But the thing is, you don’t have to.”

 

(In retrospect, Derek was pretty sure that this was the moment he became a goner, because no one had ever said that to him. No one had ever told him that he didn’t have to be strong.)

 

* * *

 

 

Skye let him sleep on her couch.

 

The Vicodin combined with the blood loss had knocked him out for good, so there was really no other option. She looked at Derek for a moment, asleep on her couch. He was pale and looked incredibly young and innocent, but he was also not wearing a shirt and _god,_ that was distracting. She forced herself to avert her gaze and went to bed, her head full of him. (There was no denying she slept better, knowing that he was in the next room over, even though he wasn’t exactly in a condition to protect her.)

 

It was awkward, the next morning. They drank coffee in her tiny kitchen and Derek apologized again and she forced him to let her check his wounds – they were starting to heal but they were obviously still causing him pain, though he tried to hide it – and the whole time, she wanted to kiss him. She wasn’t sure what he thought, but a few times, she caught his gaze resting on her a little too long or flickering to her lips. Her heart was beating too fast and she knew he could hear it.

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to fall for him. Beacon Hills was just a temporary stay for her, just another step on her way to Victor Ford. She couldn’t – _wouldn’t_ – fall for Derek. (What she didn’t admit to herself was that it was probably already too late for resolutions.)

 

He gave her one of his blending white smiles when he was already standing in the doorway about to leave, and she couldn’t keep herself from hugging him. He hugged her back immediately and her head fit perfectly under his chin and for a split second she thought that maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing.

 

She saw him leave from her window and felt incredibly lonely.

 

* * *

 

 

Aiden stood half-hidden behind a locker, watching Lydia from across the corridor.

 

He realized that he was being a creep, but he didn’t care. Countless time he’d tried to talk to her, had tried to apologize, but she hadn’t let him utter more than a few words. And honestly, he couldn’t blame her. After all he’d done while working for Deucalion, after all the people he’d hurt, it was perfectly understandable that she didn’t want him anywhere near him.

 

Aiden also understood, now, why Scott was so reluctant to let them join his pack. It had seemed a pretty irrational decision back when they had first asked, but now he knew that Scott’s pack was based on trust, something that had never existed in Deucalion’s pack. The only person he had ever truly trusted was his brother.

 

Still, he couldn’t help but worry about Lydia. She looked tired and worn, as if she hadn’t slept properly in days, and Aiden wondered if there was a new threat coming. He had noticed that Scott, Stiles, Isaac and Allison had also seemed tense and nervous lately and Stiles had shot him more than a few wary glances, as if he was suspecting him of having something to do with it.

 

Aiden thought that maybe they should talk to Scott again. If there was really something coming, the young Alpha was more likely to accept their help out of sheer necessity, therefore giving them a chance to proof that they could be trusted – and him a chance to proof to Lydia that he was one of the good guys.

 

Again, his gaze flickered to her. He didn’t know why it was so important to him what Lydia thought about him. He wasn’t usually the type to get that attached to a girl, but god, he’d give anything to have her smile at him again, to be able to grab her hand and lead her away to make out in Coach’s office.

 

“Being a creep again, huh?”

 

Aiden turned around abruptly to see his brother grinning at him and he snorted. “As if you’re any better with Danny.” he shot back.

 

Ethan’s grin grew even wider. “I am.” he replied. “Because unlike Lydia, Danny talks to me.”

 

That was a low blow and Ethan knew it because the look on his face became apologetic almost instantly, but Aiden did his best to appear unfazed and instead said: “And we both know that’s only because he doesn’t know you’re a werewolf.”

 

Ethan frowned. “Maybe you’re right.” he murmured, and then, in an even lower voice: “Though I’m not so sure he’s as unknowing as he appears.”

 

Aiden wanted to ask what his brother meant by that, but before he could a loud, shrill noise announced that the break was over. He turned to steal one last glance at Lydia but she was already gone, having slipped through his fingers once again.


	18. Seventeen

Scott was exhausted, and he was not expecting his mum to knock on his door, already in her scrubs for the late shift, and to announce with a grin: “You’ve got a visitor.” But that surprise was nothing compared to what he felt when it was Allison who entered his room, a little hesitant and with a smile on her face. 

His mum just looked at him with barely hidden amusement on his face and said: “Well, I’m off to the hospital. Have fun, you two.” Then she vanished and he heard the front door fall shut just seconds later, and he thought that he had a pretty awesome mum. 

Allison stood in the middle of his room, looking like she felt a little misplaced, and Scott awkwardly patted the bed next to him. She sat down without looking at him, and then the words started flowing at once. 

“I wanted to talk to you, about what Lydia saw.” There was a brief pause, then: “Do you really think we shouldn’t tell Derek? Maybe Stiles is right, maybe he can help us, and even if he can’t, they, whoever they are, could be after him as much as they could be after us. I think he needs to know.” 

Scott looked at her surprised. Allison had never been a fan of Derek – especially not after his bite had led to her mother committing suicide, even though she had recently learned that this had been an accident while he was trying to save Scott – and that she was now the one to demand that they should share their information with Derek was highly unexpected. 

“Are you sure?” he asked carefully. “I didn’t think you were a fan.” Allison sighed deeply and started to explain. 

“I’m not, but that isn’t the point. Look, Derek has done some shitty things and has made some terrible decisions and I can’t say that I particularly like him, but pretty much all he’s done was trying to help you – granted, in a kind of messed-up way, but still. I think we can trust him.” 

I took him a few moments to process her words and at first he wasn’t convinced, but when he thought about it, he realized that she was right. Derek had pretty much sucked at being an Alpha, but all he’d done – even trying to kill Lydia when he thought she was the Kanima – had been trying to protect them. And seriously, the guy had lost his whole family, who could blame him for being the grumpy loner he was? 

“Maybe you’re right.” he said slowly. “I should talk to him.” Allison grinned. “I’m usually right.”

He reached out for his phone but Allison grabbed his hand and held him back. “Not today.” she said. “Today, let’s do something else.” Then she kissed him, and Scott was totally on board with that. 

But she caught him by surprise when she gave him a gentle push so that he was lying on his back while she was on top of him. Her lips were soft and warm and her hands were everywhere, roaming over his body and coming dangerously close to his jeans. It took all of Scott’s focus to murmur hoarsely: “Are you sure?”

She pulled away a little so she could look him in the eye. “We said we would try being together again.” she whispered. “It’s been working pretty well so far. I think we should try something more now.” 

“Isaac will be home in a hour.” he reminded her. 

Allison gave him a wide smirk. “We can do a lot in an hour.”

* * *

 

Derek was surprised when it was Scott who called him late the next afternoon. He had hoped for Skye but had expected Cora – it was her usual time for her weekly I’m-still-alive-stop-worrying-call – so when he saw Scott’s number instead, he immediately knew that something was up. 

“Scott.” he said without a greeting and the young Alpha didn’t seem to mind, because he immediately answered: “I need to talk to you, Derek.” 

Derek frowned. If Scott wanted to talk that usually meant that he – and more often than not as a consequence Derek as well – was in trouble, and frankly, Derek didn’t want to be in trouble. He was still suffering from the aftereffects of what the Alpha pack had done to them, and the only thing he wanted to do was live in peace (and maybe figure out what the hell was going on between him and Skye). 

Still – because sometime he was just too damn nice, even if he was never credited for it – he sighed and asked: “What about?” 

Scott swallowed audibly and then said: “I’d rather talk about this in person. Can I come over to your loft?” Derek’s frown deepened. If it was that serious that Scott didn’t want to discuss it over the phone, they were definitely in trouble. “Fine.” he growled, and he could hear Scott sigh in something like relief.

“Great.” he said, but he didn’t sound too enthusiastic. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. See you.” He ended the call before Derek could say anything further. 

When Scott arrived, he wasn’t alone but was accompanied by Stiles, something that Derek should probably have seen coming but that annoyed him nonetheless. Scott was likely to get straight to the point while Stiles was a talker, and Derek really just wanted to get this over with so that he could bury whatever trouble they were in deep inside his memory and go back to things that seemed more important to him at the moment and were less likely to get him killed (Skye, for example). 

Last morning in her apartment, the tension between them had almost been tangible and Derek was now pretty certain that his attraction to her wasn’t just one-sided. He’d caught Skye several times staring at him a little too long and the way she’d hugged him when he left, pressing close to him and arms wrapping around his body, hadn’t been platonic in the slightest. And god, he’d wanted to do so much more than just hug her. 

Derek knew all too well that his involvements with women always ended in tragedy but Skye… Skye was different. With Paige, Kate or Jennifer he’d jumped head over heels into a relationship before even really knowing them, much less trust them. But Skye and he knew things about each other that no one else knew, and he trusted her to an extent that almost scared him sometimes. 

Stiles interrupted his thoughts by saying: “Hey, sourwolf. What’s up?” Derek rolled his eyes at the nickname, even though he was more or less used to it by now. Mostly, he just faked annoyance because he didn’t want to let on that he actually liked the lanky kid. He had a feeling that Stiles knew though. 

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, turning to Scott. 

The young Alpha cleared his throat and started explaining, looking like he felt a little uncomfortable. “Lydia had some sort of a vision.” he said. “She says that someone – another pack, probably, or maybe hunters – is going to come to Beacon Hills, and she is very sure they are not coming in peace. In fact, she said that she distinctly heard the words “they are coming to kill”. Oh, and she said a woman she’s never seen before is going to die.” 

The silence that filled the room after that was almost oppressive and Scott stood there a little awkwardly. “We thought you should know.” he added quietly. 

Derek sighed deeply. This was certainly trouble. As if the Alpha pack hadn’t given them enough shit, now – for whatever reason – there were other people coming at them. Not for the first time, Derek contemplated whether he should follow Cora to South America and never come back to Beacon Hills. 

“Does Lydia have any idea when they’ll be here?” he asked.

Stiles shook his head. “No.” he answered. “Her abilities don’t work like that. She doesn’t get specific information. Just feelings and voices and pictures.”

Derek kept himself from saying that he knew that – Lydia wasn’t the first banshee he’d met, though she was probably the most powerful – and instead said: “Then I guess there’s not much we can do, except hope for the best, and try to stop these guys before they can do what they’ll come for.” 

Scott nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right.” He hesitated briefly, then he asked: “If they attack us, will you… fight? With us, I mean?”

Derek looked at him a little incredulously. Sure, Scott and he weren’t on the best terms, but ever since Peter had turned him, he’d been doing his best to help Scott and keep him safe, and yet he still doubted whether he was on their side. It hurt to be treated like that, to never be trusted no matter what he did, so his answer was snappier than it should’ve been. “I’m not going to take on them by myself, Scott.”

The boy had the decency to look vaguely apologetic. “Okay then.” he said. “We gotta go. See you around, Derek.” With that, he turned around and slipped out of the loft.

Stiles lingered for a little longer, looking like he wanted to say something, but all that left his mouth was “Bye, sourwolf” before he followed his friend and was gone in the blink of an eye. 


	19. Eighteen

The next day, Skye awoke covered in cold sweat, her heart racing in her chest.

 

She’d dreamt of her family again, their bodies broken and bloody but their eyes alive with pain as their lips formed the words: “It’s your fault we’re dead, and now you can’t even find the man who killed us.”

 

Logically, Skye knew that the bomb – or bombs rather; there had been multiple of them – hadn’t been her fault, that she wouldn’t have been able to keep this horrible tragedy from happening had she been home, but still she kept asking herself if maybe things could’ve gone differently. If maybe she could’ve discovered the bombs before they went off and ushered her family to safety, if maybe she could’ve disabled them using her powers, if maybe their deaths hadn’t been inevitable.

 

Survivor’s guilt, that was what her mother had called it when her brother had one day been the only one to come home from an attack on one of the Guardians’ bases that had turned out to be a trap. He had blamed herself for the others’ deaths too, even if he’d almost been killed as well when he’d tried to get their bodies back to their families.

 

Still, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now so she got up and drank two cups of coffee in the kitchen before she got out one of the boxes that held the non-digitalized records she’d stolen from the Guardians and started digging through them. She didn’t expect them to tell her anything new, but they would distract her from the memories and at least give her the illusion that she was doing something to get closer to Victor Ford.

 

By the time she had sifted through everything inside the box, it was almost five o’clock and she didn’t feel any better. Instead, the records of missions against her people and assassinations and experiments – some of the Guardians had been scientists, trying to locate the gene that gave them their powers – had done the exact opposite.

 

Skye shoved the box away and buried her head in her hands, trying to keep herself from crying. She felt like a mouse in a trap, the walls of the room slowly closing in on her and leaving her gasping for air.

 

Abruptly, she sprang to her feet and grabbed her car keys. She didn’t have a specific location in mind; she just knew she had to get out of here.

 

She ended up at the pizza place she’d been to with Derek a few days ago, and on impulse, she bought two pizzas. Going back to her apartment wasn’t an option and she also didn’t want to be alone right now, so that left her with exactly one place to go.

 

* * *

 

 

The alarm on his door went off just as Derek was about to leave and grab something to eat.

 

Ready to snap at whoever wanted something from him, he slid the door open to reveal Skye, which made all of his annoyance vanish at once.

 

They had not seen or talked to each other since she’d patched him up at her apartment.  Derek hadn’t dared to call her, because he didn’t really have a reason to – it made him feel like a high school boy all over again, desperately trying to find an excuse to talk to his crush – and after that morning, he also hadn’t dared to go to their spot in the forest, because Skye was turning his world upside down and frankly, it scared him a little.

 

She was smiling, but she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days and he could hear her heart flutter. “Hi.” she said, holding up the two pizza boxes she was holding. The delicious smell coming from them almost made his stomach growl. “You bought pizza the last time, so I thought it was my turn.” She hesitated for a moment. “Can I come in?”

 

“Of course.” he replied a little too late and stepped aside. He’d been too distracted by her face and her smile and just _her_ to register her question immediately, and he thought she had noticed his eyes roaming her body because there might’ve been the ghost of a smirk on her face when she entered.

 

Derek followed her to the sofa and she slid him one of the pizza boxes. He was strangely touched when he realized that she’d gotten him the same pizza he’d had three days ago – she had bothered to remember – but he didn’t dig in immediately, even though he was starving. Instead, he watched Skye.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked carefully. She didn’t seem okay and he knew the look in her eyes all too well – the look of someone tortured by memories and guilt and grief – but he didn’t want to push her. He wanted her to tell him because she wanted to, not because he’d called her out on it.

 

She didn’t look at him as she answered. “Yeah, you know, just… nightmares. I get them sometimes. No big deal.” Her voice was trembling a little, probably not even perceptible to human ears, and he wanted to pull her close and tell her everything would be okay. He knew from experience that nightmares weren’t “no big deal”. They deprived him of his sleep, made him irritable and ill-tempered and opened up old wounds that he’d already thought healed. They sucked, and he understood why Skye looked so shaken.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked hesitatingly.

 

Skye looked up and gave him a sad smile that did not reach her eyes. “I really just want to eat pizza and not think about my fucked-up life for a while.” she said, and Derek smiled at her. “I can do that.” he replied softly.

 

They ended up watching Orange is the new Black on Netflix – Skye had talked him into it and he had to admit he liked it – and halfway through the second episode, she dozed off with her head on his shoulder. Derek didn’t dare to move, because she was so close that he could feel her hair tickling the skin on his neck and he also had a feeling that she could use every bit of sleep she could get.

 

He didn’t hit pause though but kept watching – which he felt a little guilty about, but he wanted to know what would happen next and Skye had said that she already knew the first season – until just before midnight, she began moving and looked up to him in confusion.

 

“Did I fall asleep?” she murmured sleepily, and god, she looked adorable with her hair all disheveled and that slight blush on her cheeks.

 

Derek grinned. “Yeah.” he said quietly and couldn’t resist the urge to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I watched the next few episodes. Sorry.”

 

Skye yawned. “’S no problem.” she answered. “I know them already.” She scooted a little closer and he swallowed. Didn’t she know what she was doing to him when she was this close, practically snuggled into his side, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces?

 

To distract himself he focused on the screen again, though his brain didn’t really process what was going on there. Instead, he tried very hard to keep his breathing calm and steady, even as he slid his arm around her shoulders almost involuntarily. For a while, they watched in silence and Derek thought Skye had fallen asleep again, but then she spoke, her voice very quiet and small.

 

“Can I… stay here for tonight? I really don’t wanna go home.”

 

He didn’t even have to think about his answer. “Of course.” he said, and then he surprised himself by pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Stay as long as you want.” He heard her heart skip a beat and couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with himself.

 

“Thank you.” Skye murmured, and then she definitely snuggled into his side, her head resting on his chest and his arm wrapped around her protectively. Before long, her breathing became steady again and she was fast asleep in his arms.

 

He carried her to his bed as soon as the episode was over and settled down on the sofa, but he didn’t fall asleep for a long time. Instead, he thought about the feeling of Skye in his arms and her soft hair tickling his skin.

 

He fell asleep to the steady sound of her heartbeat.


	20. Nineteen

When Skye woke up, she was immediately aware that she wasn’t in her apartment, but it also felt way too comfortable to be Derek’s sofa, where she vaguely remembered falling asleep on.

 

Blinking, she rolled onto her back and realized that she was lying in Derek’s bed – which meant he’d probably carried her to bed after she’d fallen asleep – and now she also remembered that they hadn’t just watched TV, they had practically cuddled. And if her half-asleep brain wasn’t betraying her, Derek had kissed her – not on the lips, but still. The thought made her feel weirdly warm and fuzzy inside.

 

“Morning, sleeping beauty.”

 

She sat up sleepily to see Derek grinning at her. “What time is it?” she asked, stifling a yawn. His grin grew even wider. “A little after eleven. I guess you really needed the sleep.”

 

He was right. A full night of sleep without any nightmares was a rare occurrence for her, and the last night had been one of them – just as the first night she’d slept at his loft. Derek made her feel safe and his mere presence kept the nightmares and memories at bay. Skye knew she was letting him too close, she knew he was getting under her skin and she shouldn’t allow that, but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

“You know, you didn’t have to let me have the bed.” she said as she got up and took a few steps towards Derek. He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a gentleman.”

 

She chuckled. “Yeah, right. Last I remember gentlemen don’t generally choke girls they’ve only just met.” A smirk danced across his lips and he gave her a barely perceptible wink. “Oh, you didn’t like that? My bad.”

 

He was definitely flirting, and _god,_ it made her knees weak and her stomach tingle. She couldn’t recall ever having had such an intense reaction to a man – and there had been a few boyfriends she’d thought she was in love with – and frankly, it scared her a little. She’d tried to stay away from Derek, had tried not to let him too close, but it hadn’t worked and some part of her knew she was too far gone by now.

 

There were a few seconds of awkward silence before Derek said: “I don’t have much in the way of food, but we can go grab some breakfast if you like.” Skye gave him a smile. “Absolutely. I’ll just go to the bathroom real quick.”

 

In Derek’s surprisingly modern and well-equipped bathroom, she tried her best to make herself look acceptable – her hair was a mess and she was still wearing yesterday’s clothes – and when she came back, Derek was wearing his black leather jacket that made his shoulder look impossibly broad.

 

“Ready to go?” he asked, and she nodded with a grin. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

Half an hour later, they were sitting in a small diner in front of a giant heap of pancakes with maple syrup. To Skye’s surprise, Derek had a major sweet tooth – just like her – and he ate one pancake after another as if he was breathing them in.

 

He was in an exceptionally good mood, laughing and teasing her and telling her stories from his past that weren’t full of tragedy and pain, and his cheerfulness was contagious, raising her own mood considerably. They stayed in the diner long after they’d finished their pancakes, and Skye thought she could get used to that – sitting here with Derek and simply talking (even though her gaze still flickered to his lips every now and then). Of course, they had talked a great deal during their nights in the forest, but this was different.

 

By the time they got up, it was almost three o’clock and Skye wished she could just stay here with Derek all day. He held the door for her – he’d also paid for the pancakes despite her protest; he could definitely be quite the gentleman when he wanted to – and once outside, she turned to face him.

 

“Thanks for letting me stay at your place.” she said, and she really meant it. She knew very well that she wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all if she’d been alone at her apartment. “And for the breakfast.” He gave her a blending white smile (they were usually rare, but today she’d seen quite a few). “Anytime.” he replied.

 

For a few seconds they just looked at each other in silence; then Skye’s brain simply went “fuck it” and she threw her arms around his neck, pressing closer to him than it would probably have been appropriate. He hugged her back and she could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady but maybe a little too fast.

 

She let go first and without thinking, she got on her tiptoes and pressed a short, soft kiss to his cheek before giving him a smile. “Bye, Derek.” she whispered and then turned around, slowly walking away while she had to keep herself from looking back.

 

Her lips tingled and she couldn’t help but imagine what it would’ve been like to kiss not only his cheek.

 

* * *

 

 

Lydia was pissed.

 

First, she’d barely slept all night because ominous whispers she hadn’t been able to understand had kept her awake, and now Aiden was waiting for her at her locker, looking stupidly attractive with that blending white smile of his. And seriously, she did not have time or nerves to deal with him today.

 

“I thought I made it very clear that I don’t want to talk to you.” she said sharply without looking at him. For a moment, she thought she saw him flinch out of the corner of her eye, but when he spoke, his voice was calm and collected. “I don’t want to talk about… us.”

 

“There is no us.” she snapped and this time he definitely flinched. She glanced at him – his face looked a little bit like a lost puppy – and for a moment she felt bad, but then she forced herself to remember all the things Aiden had done and the feeling vanished again.

 

He took a deep breath and then said: “Listen, Lydia, I’m not stupid. I know something’s up. You people have been acting all strange and anxious the last few days and I’m pretty sure that means shit is about to go down.” Aiden hesitated and his next sentence took Lydia by surprise. “Ethan and I want to help.”

 

Lydia stared at him. “You want to… what?” she asked incredulously.

 

He gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you don’t believe we’re good guys.” he said, and he was right, but Lydia didn’t say anything. Instead, she let him talk, because some part of her hoped that she was wrong. “But if something is coming… Scott might be a true Alpha, but what your pack really need is some fighters. And that’s just what Ethan and me are good at.”

 

She didn’t know what to say. Her thought were racing inside of her head, debating whether his offer was serious and whether they should trust him, but before she could come to a conclusion, he gave her another smile.

 

“Look, just tell Scott about my offer, okay?” he said, and then he was gone.

 

Lydia looked after him. Suddenly she doubted her whole picture of Aiden, and that scared the hell out of her. Because if she couldn’t be sure he was a bad guy anymore, there was nothing left keeping her away from him.

 

* * *

 

 

The woman that got out of a plane at San Francisco International airport later that day had something about her that made people get out of her way instinctively, and it wasn’t the group of men and women with grim faces surrounding her.

 

She wasn’t very physically imposing either – though she was rather tall for a woman – but there was something about the way she moved with an effortless elegance and the way her piercing grey eyes darted through the room, taking in every detail, that made her seem like a deadly predator.

 

There was the ghost of a content smile lingering on her lips as she slowly crossed the hall, the group following her silently. They looked like a perfect army – moving as one, ready to strike and destroy with only one word from the woman. People stilled when they passed, not daring to look at them, almost holding their breaths in fear.

 

Not one of them uttered a single word until they had reclaimed their luggage – each one was carrying a black leather suitcase – and were crowded just outside the airport building, the woman in their middle. When she spoke up, her voice wasn’t very loud but it still reverberated in the air around them.

 

“When we arrive in Beacon Hills, you know what to do.” she said. “Find me someone from that pack and get them to talk. I want to know exactly what we’re in for here. Maybe there’s more to gain than a true Alpha in our ranks.”

 

There were a few murmurs of “Yes, ma’am” and the woman smiled. From what that Omega Craig Hall had told her, Beacon Hills was a gold mine, and she was planning on exploiting it until there was nothing left.

 


	21. Twenty

The smile creeped across Derek’s lips almost involuntarily as soon as Skye’s number popped up on his cell phone display. “Hey, almighty witch.” he said.

 

She chuckled quietly. “Don’t be a tease.” There was a small, almost hesitating pause before she asked: “Do you have any plans for this evening?”

 

His plans had been to go for a run in the forest and then hang out in his loft until sleep would finally come – and with it the inevitable nightmares – but his mood considerably brightened at the prospect of spending the evening with Skye instead. “No, why?” he asked.

 

He could hear her smile in her voice as she answered. “Well, I’m hungry but way too tired to head out – or god forbid cook. You could pick up pizza on your way here and then we could watch some more Orange is the new Black. We got a lot of catching up to do.”

 

“Sounds good.” he replied, already grabbing his jacket and car keys. “Give me thirty minutes. You have any special wishes?” Again, Skye chuckled and the sound made his heart beat a little too fast. “Tequila, but I doubt they sell that at the pizza place, so just pizza. See you in half an hour.”

 

“Yeah, see you.” he said, and then he almost raced out of his loft because he couldn’t get to Skye fast enough.

 

As soon as he’d ordered their pizzas – Skye hadn’t been the only one to pay attention; she’d had the same pizza the last two times so he figured it was her favorite – and the bored-looking boy at the counter – Derek was pretty sure he’d was in Scott’s and Stiles’ year – had told him that he needed to wait about twenty minutes, he made an impulsive decision. There was a liquor store just two streets away, so it wouldn’t be much trouble to pick up a bottle of tequila.

 

(He wouldn’t admit it to anyone that he only wanted to make Skye smile, because her smile never failed to make him smile too. Pure egoism, really.) Telling the young guy that he would be back to pick up the pizza, he strolled out of the door.

 

He was halfway there, passing through a dark, narrow alley – not that it worried him, he wasn’t exactly defenseless – when suddenly, he heard a sound behind him that reminded him dangerously of a gun being cocked. He turned around abruptly, letting his eyes flash blue to see and taking in a breath of air, searching for any unusual scent, but there was nothing.

 

Still on guard, he turned around again but before he could even take one step, something sharp pierced his neck and Derek’s world went black.

 

* * *

 

 

When forty-five minutes had passed since their call and Derek still hadn’t arrived, Skye called him. His phone went straight to voicemail and that was when dread started building up in her stomach.

 

She tried again and then again, left him a message asking where he was – she tried to sound cheerful but in reality she probably sounded a little desperate – and by the time one hour had passed, she grabbed her gun, tucked it into her waistband and left her apartment. Maybe she was overreacting, but her instincts were telling her that something was terribly wrong and over the years she’d learned to trust her instincts.

 

When she entered the pizza place, she ignored the small line and went up straight to the counter, silencing a woman’s protest with one piercing glare. “Hi.” she said to the boy – who wasn’t doing a very good job at subtly checking her out – and forced herself to smile. “Have you seen a guy in the last hour, about six foot tall, black hair and beard, kind of grumpy?”

 

The boy raised one eyebrow. “You mean Derek Hale? Yeah, I saw him. He ordered two pizzas but never came back to pick them up. Or pay them.” Skye clenched her fists and forced herself to take a deep breath before slamming a twenty dollar bill on the counter. “For the pizza. Did he say where he was going?”

 

He shook his head. “Nah. And, well, I didn’t ask. Honestly, he’s kind of scary.” Under any other circumstances, Skye would’ve laughed but instead she just thanked the kid and stormed out, trying very hard to keep her palms from flaring up blue. Her brain was making up countless horrible scenarios of what could’ve happened to Derek and she had to force herself to keep breathing normally.

 

It took several minutes before she had calmed down enough to do the logical thing and start searching the vicinity – which was embarrassing, really, because she was supposed to be an expert, she was supposed to know what to do in a case like that, but apparently her brain just shut down completely when it came to Derek.

 

She didn’t find him but she found his phone half hidden under a dumpster in a dark alley that – of freaking course, because that was just her luck – didn’t have any traffic cams or surveillance she could’ve hacked into, and that was the last piece she needed. Something had happened to Derek. Someone had taken him.

 

 _Don’t panic,_ she told herself. _You’ve done this before. You’re great at tracking people down. He’ll be fine._

 

But still, she couldn’t shake the image of Derek, bloody and broken, and for the first time since her family had died, she found herself thinking she was going to need help.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott was in the middle of the first chapter of the biology textbook he’d been meaning to get started on for weeks when the doorbell rang. He sighed deeply and contemplated just ignoring whoever wanted something from him at ten o’clock in the evening – it couldn’t be Stiles, because he would’ve let himself in already – but then the doorbell rang again and Scott got up from the couch with a groan.

 

At the door was a woman he’d never seen before. She was a good deal shorter than him, probably in her early twenties and didn’t look threatening at all, but there was something in her eyes that unconsciously made him tense. “Can I help you?” he asked politely.

 

“I hope so.” she replied and then she held out a phone to him. “I found this under a dumpster in an alley. It’s Derek’s. He was supposed to meet me two hours ago, never showed up. I know he isn’t technically part of your pack, but I have a feeling you’re nice enough to care anyway.”

 

Scott stared at her incredulously. This was not what he had been expecting – a woman who seemed like she was worried about Derek and apparently had extensive knowledge about him and his pack – and he was so taken aback by it that the fact that she claimed something had happened to Derek didn’t even fully register at first. “Who are you?” he asked.

 

She rolled her eyes. “My name’s Skye. But let’s focus on the important stuff here. Whoever’s taken Derek, they probably aren’t planning on letting him go anytime soon. So will you help me or not?”

 

Scott’s thoughts were racing in his head. He was pretty sure that her worry was real – he could hear her slightly elevated but otherwise steady heartbeat which also told him she wasn’t lying – but there were still a lot of questions he wanted answers to. How did she know Derek? Why did she know about him and his pack (she wasn’t a werewolf herself; that much he could tell)? And could she be trusted?

 

The part of him that she’d called “nice enough to care anyway” won. He fully opened the door and took a step to the side to let her in. “We should probably discuss this inside.” he said and a small smile flickered across her face. Her “thank you” was so quiet he could barely hear it.

 

Inside, Isaac was just coming down the stairs – he’d probably heard them talking – and eyed the woman – Skye – suspiciously. “Who is that?” he asked. Scott answered before she had any chance to. “Her name is Skye.” he said. “She says Derek is gone.”

 

Immediately, worry appeared in Isaac’s eyes, again confirming Scott’s suspicion that the Beta harbored more loyalty for his former Alpha than he would like to admit. “What do you mean, gone?” he asked. “What the hell happened?”

 

He descended the last few steps, still eyeing Skye, but she didn’t seem in the least bit intimated even though Isaac was almost a foot taller than her, and Scott was pretty sure she was capable of much more than her appearance suggested. He had the uneasy feeling that she would probably be able to take him and Isaac down without much of an effort if she wanted to.

 

“I mean gone as in leaving behind nothing but his phone in a dark alley.” she all but snapped. “And seriously, I know we don’t each other but can we get to work here? Because if you aren’t willing to help, I’ll walk out of here and find him myself. I just thought you would at least pretend to care that Derek is probably being tortured right now.”

 

It wasn’t hard to see that her anger was only hiding her fear – fear for Derek – and that was what convinced Scott she was telling the truth. Her worry was sincere, and whatever problems he’d had with Derek in the past, he didn’t want the older werewolf to be tortured or even killed.

 

He could tell that Isaac was still skeptical – he appeared ready to attack Skye at any moment, which Scott was sure wasn’t a good idea – but one flash of his red eyes made the Beta back down.

 

“Okay.” he said. “Show me where you found the phone.”


	22. Twenty-One

Derek woke up tied to a metal pole.

 

His body felt weak and heavy as if he’d been drugged, and when he remembered the sting he’d felt just before he’d blacked out, he was pretty sure that he had. From what he could tell, he wasn’t hurt, but when he tried to transform to break free of the chains holding him in place, his body wouldn’t obey. _Wolfsbane then,_ he thought and groaned. He had a feeling that he’d just ran into the mysterious “them” Lydia had seen coming.

 

He blinked and slowly moved his head to take in his surroundings. It looked like some sort of abandoned warehouse, the few windows either shattered or covered in dirt. Boxes were stacked in the corners, covered in dust, and scrap metal was scattered all over the floor. A single bulb dangling from the ceiling was the only source of light, telling him that it was already dark outside, even though he had no way of knowing what time it was exactly.

 

Skye probably knew by now that something had happened and part of him hoped she would find him as quickly as possible, but the other part wanted her to stay as far away from any danger as she could. He knew her well enough though to know though that she was much more likely to walk in here, guns blazing, and burn that building to the ground.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a door sliding open on the other side of the hall. Three people entered – two men, one woman – and Derek didn’t even have to smell them to be sure they were werewolves as well – at least the men; he wasn’t so sure about the woman. They moved with the precision of predators as they slowly positioned themselves around him, and Derek felt terribly trapped, like a wounded animal surrounded by hunters.

 

The first man – impossibly tall and bulky with greying hair and beard, even though he didn’t look much older than forty – gave him a wide grin that looked a lot more like he was baring his teeth. “Well hello there, Derek Hale.”

 

His voice was a low growl and something in Derek’s stomach clenched. He knew exactly what they wanted from him – information about the pack – and he also knew that if he didn’t give them what they wanted, they would torture him to get it. Derek was many things, but he wasn’t a traitor, so he started mentally and physically bracing himself for the agony that was to come.

 

The man’s grin grew even wider. “I’m Dmitri.” he said and gestured towards the other two, a man with long blond hair who looked like he was Derek’s age and a dark-haired woman whose arms were covered in rune-like tattoos. “These are Eli and Savannah. It is a pleasure to meet one of the last members of the Hale family.”

 

He cocked his head. “Though I have to say, I remember your mother as slightly more… dignified. I am a little disappointed.”

 

Derek gritted his teeth and didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t matter anyway. All he could hope for now was that Skye would be sensible enough to go to Scott for help and that they would find him and get him out of here.

 

Dmitri chuckled. “Not much of a talker, are you?” Slowly, very slowly, he came closer until he was standing right in front of him. He was a few inches taller than Derek so he had to look up to him, and he tried very hard to keep his heartbeat steady.

 

The other werewolf’s voice was nothing but a whisper as he leaned towards him so their face were only inches apart and said: “Let’s see if we can make you talk then.”

 

* * *

 

 

“We need to get Stiles.”

 

That was the first thing Scott said when he’d plopped into her passenger’s seat while Isaac, the tall blonde guy, crammed himself into the backseat. Skye was about to protest – with any second that passed images of Derek being tortured haunted her – but then she remembered what he’d told her about Stiles, the sheriff’s kid with the unpronounceable name.

 

Derek always spoke of him with a kind of fondness that he rarely expressed for other members of the pack. He’d told her that Stiles might only be human, but he was always the one reading the clues, the one making a plan, the one figuring things out – basically the pack’s emissary, even though he didn’t carry that title officially – and she realized that they were much more likely to find Derek if they brought Stiles along.

 

So instead of protesting, she simply asked: “What’s his address?” and sped out of the McCalls’ driveway as soon as Scott told her.

 

It was pure muscle memory that kept her from crashing her car. Her thoughts were going crazy inside her head, racing back and forth and slowly landing on a possibility that made her heart clench with fear. This could be about her.

 

It was more than possible that the Guardians had found her. She’d never been in one place that long; it was dangerous and reckless and _stupid_ , so very stupid. They could’ve been onto her for weeks, following her and mapping her habits – habits that had just fallen into place; how could she have been that _stupid_ – and figuring out that the best way to hurt her was hurting Derek. This could be her fault. And the more she thought about it, the surer she became that it was.

 

After all her years on the run, never staying anywhere for more than a few weeks, she had craved a place she could call home and when Derek had given her something to hold on to, she had foolishly let her guard down, had allowed herself to get attached and to grow careless, had stopped to carefully consider every move and to never give the Guardians anything to track her down with. She had fucked up, and now Derek was being tortured because of it. Because she had been so damn weak.

 

“You okay?”

 

She almost flinched at Scott’s voice. He was looking at her strangely and she realized that there were sparks dancing between her fingers. She forced herself to take a deep breath and made them vanish. It had been a long time since she had been distressed enough to involuntarily summon electricity.

 

“Yeah.” Her voice was hoarse and shaky and even the most ignorant person on earth wouldn’t have believed her lie. Scott wasn’t ignorant, and he could also hear her heart racing in her chest and had most likely seen the sparks, but he didn’t push. Instead, he just pointed to a two-story house and said: “It’s right there.” For the first time, Skye got why Derek liked the kid so much, even after everything that had happened between them.

 

The blonde one, Isaac, wasn’t so tactful. “You’re worried about him.” he observed as they pulled up in front of the house. “How do you know him? He never mentioned you.”

 

“It’s not like you guys do a lot of talking since you found yourself a new Alpha.” As soon as the words were out, Skye realized that this had been a low blow, but she had always tended to become mean whenever she was scared out of her mind. She had snapped at her brother – and father, and various other family members and friends – countless times whenever they had barely made it home from a mission against the Guardians.

 

Isaac growled and she was fairly certain he was going to attack her right here in her car – she almost wished for it, for the distraction and the relief a fight would bring, and that was a sign of just how messed up she was – but then the front door opened and a lanky, dark-haired boy emerged, who Skye guessed was Stiles.

 

He hurried towards the car and scooted into the backseat next to Isaac before eyeing her more curiously than suspiciously. “Hi, woman I do not know. I assume that for some reasons I do not know either you’re part of the search party for the sourwolf?”

 

In a split second, Skye decided that she liked him – and well, the nickname was fitting. “I’m Skye.” she said. “And I’m part of the search party because I’m the one who noticed Derek was missing in the first place.” _And because I’m probably the reason he is._ She forced that thought as far away as possible and instead asked: “Does that answer your questions?”

 

Stiles seemed to consider, then he nodded. “The most pressing ones, yeah. I think the rest can wait until after we’ve found Derek.”

 

“Finally someone sensible.” she murmured under her breath as she pulled out of the Stilinskis’ driveway. In her rearview mirror, she could see Stiles smirk. “She called me sensible, Scott. I like her.”


	23. Twenty-Two

Stiles had lied. 

He had a shit-ton of questions he still wanted answered, but well, even though no one but this Skye woman acknowledged it, he could be pretty sensible, and his sensible side told him that any and all questions could indeed wait until Derek was safe. 

The distrust and anger radiating from Isaac was obvious, and Stiles wondered what had happened before he’d gotten in the car. Sure, he got the distrust part – they didn’t know Skye or her connection to Derek, didn’t know if she could be trusted or was luring them into a trap – but honestly he’d expected Scott to be the distrustful one. After all, he and Derek had their disagreements while Isaac was still kind of attached to his former Alpha. 

Now that he thought about it, maybe this was the reason Isaac appeared so angry. He was worried about Derek and tried to mask it beneath his aggression – an attitude not all that different to what said former Alpha usually expressed. 

Skye was the one who broke the uncomfortable silence. “Do you know how to fire a gun, Stiles?” 

The question took him completely by surprise. “Do I… what? Why?” He was pretty sure she rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see her face. “Whoever took Derek, they could still be around and they are definitely dangerous. You’re human and don’t look like you have any experience with self-defense, so a gun is the weapon of choice. Do you know how to fire one or not?” 

Stiles bit his lip. For the first time, he fully realized – or rather, let himself realize – what a mess they had gotten themselves into again. Derek was gone, had been taken, probably by the pack that Lydia had seen coming, which meant that the death and destruction she had also seen coming were about to happen in the near future. And Skye was right; he wasn’t all that proficient at defending himself. 

Something inside of him curled up in fear and dread but he forced his voice to sound calm and collected as he said: “Yeah, I think. One of my dad’s deputies showed me once.” Skye sighed in something like relief. “Good. Scott, open the glove-box. There’s a gun in there, give it to Stiles.” 

Stiles could see his best friend frown at being ordered around by a woman he didn’t even know, but he obeyed and opened the glove-box, taking in a sharp breath as they saw what was inside. There was the gun Skye had mentioned, but there were also a few knives of different lengths, some electrical device whose purpose Stiles couldn’t quite figure out and two pairs of handcuffs. 

“What the hell are you? Some sort of mercenary?” Stiles asked and Skye gave a dry, joyless chuckle. “I’m just prepared for everything.” she replied as she stopped the car in front of a dark, narrow alley. “There we are.” she said. “That’s where I found his phone.”

Stiles swallowed but did his best to appear unfazed as he got out of the car, holding on to the gun as hard as he could because it somehow made him feel stronger. Scott, Isaac and Skye immediately went straight into the alley and with a sigh, Stiles followed them. 

The two werewolves immediately started sniffing – which still weirded him out a little – while Skye just stood there, her hands clenched into fists. In the dim light, she looked very young and Stiles realized that she didn’t only worry about Derek, she was scared out of her mind for him, even though she was very good at hiding it. 

He wondered what exactly their relationship was, because they certainly weren’t just acquaintances and Derek apparently trusted her enough to have told her virtually everything about the pack. Stiles cared about Derek more then he would admit, and he genuinely hoped that they would find him and that Skye would make him happy. He deserved some happiness. 

Scott and Isaac strolled back towards them and Skye visibly tensed. “What do you smell?” she asked. “Anything?” 

His best friend nodded. “There was definitely someone here with him.” he replied. “It wasn’t a werewolf, but I don’t think they were completely human either. I can’t quite place the smell.”

For some reason, Skye drew in a trembling breath. “Does it smell like me?” she asked, so quietly he could barely hear her. “What?” Scott asked, evidently confused. She clenched her fists so tight her knuckles turned white. “I asked if it smelled like me.” 

Scott took a deep breath and then his whole body tensed, taking a defensive pose. Stiles’ gaze wandered between the two, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “You don’t smell human.” his best friend said, dangerously calm. “Not entirely.”

A sad little smile flickered across her face. “That’s because I’m not. I swear I will explain, just please tell me if what you’re smelling here smells like me. Because if it does, we’re fucked.” She sounded incredibly desperate and for a moment, the silence around them was thick and suffocating.

Scott and Isaac looked like they were ready to attack at any moment while Skye just looked defeated and Stiles was utterly confused. Then, very slowly, Scott shook his head. “No. It doesn’t smell like you. It kind of reminds me of Deaton, actually.” 

Skye’s whole body seemed to sag in relief. “Are you sure?” she asked. “You mean Deaton the emissary? The druid?” 

This time, Scott shook his head resolutely. “Before we go any further on that, you answer our questions. You’re not a werewolf and you’re not human. What the hell are you?” 

Three faces turned to her, waiting for her answer. Honestly, Stiles was more curious than worried. He was at least ninety-nine percent sure that Skye really just wanted to find Derek and that she wouldn’t harm them, no matter what her powers were, so he just wanted to know what kind of supernatural creature they hadn’t heard about yet she was. 

She raised her hands in a gesture that indicated she wasn’t about to attack them. “We simply call ourselves gifted. Each one of us has a unique power, and we all have accelerated healing as well as heightened speed and strength.”

“What’s your power?” The question left his mouth almost instinctively and Skye shot him a strange look. “Don’t attack.” she said, and then her palm flared up blue with electricity, a single bolt of lightning shooting from her hand into the opposite wall before vanishing abruptly. “I can control strength and duration of the electricity.” she said quietly. “It can be used to torture, to stun and to kill.” 

The silence that followed was long and uncomfortable until Scott asked: “Why did you think someone like you took Derek?” 

Skye visibly swallowed. “I didn’t.” she said. “But there is a group who calls itself the Guardians. They have been hunting my kind for years. Most of them infuse themselves with blood from gifted people in an attempt to get stronger – that’s why they would smell like me. I thought… I thought they had tracked me down and took Derek to lure me into a trap.” 

Stiles’ thoughts were spinning in circles, racing to process everything he’d just learned. For him, it had been clear that the pack Lydia had seen coming was behind Derek’s disappearance, but apparently, Skye had been scared of someone else altogether. “If it wasn’t those Guardians, that means it was whoever Lydia warned us about.” he declared more calmly than he felt. 

Scott and Isaac nodded, their faces dark and grim, while Skye looked at him in confusion. “The banshee? Who did she warn you about? Did she see something?” Stiles snorted. “Seriously, what do you not know about our pack?” he mumbled under his breath before explaining: “She said there was a pack coming to Beacon Hills, and that their intentions weren’t… amicable. They are probably the ones who took Derek.”

Oddly, Skye looked a little relieved at that. “So a pack of werewolves took him?” she asked. “They shouldn’t be too hard to track, right?” Scott shook his head. “No. Like I said, it wasn’t a werewolf here with him. And the smell vanishes at the end of the alley. They probably put him into a car.” He hesitated. “I really don’t think there’s much else we can do tonight. We should get the whole pack together tomorrow. Maybe Lydia can figure out where they took him.”

Skye looked like he had punched her in the face. “You just want to stop?” she almost yelled. “You just want to take a break while Derek is probably being tortured?”

Scott shook his head again. “No. I want to do his strategically. We’re not doing anything useful here. You can do whatever you want, but you came to me for help, and my way of helping is calling a pack meeting tomorrow after school.”

For a few seconds, the two just stared at each other, then Skye scoffed. “Fine. I’ll drive you home.”

She turned around abruptly and they followed her to her car, but Stiles couldn’t shake the feeling they were wasting precious time Derek did not have. 


	24. Twenty-Three

Of course, Skye didn’t follow Scott’s plan. She dropped the three boys off at home and then drove back to the alley, desperately searching for any clue that would lead her to Derek. The only things she found were a bank’s surveillance camera and a traffic camera not to too far away from the alley, and she managed to hack into both of them from her laptop, gaining access to the cameras’ stored recordings.

 

They had picked up a lot of cars during the period of time that Derek had probably been taken in, but Skye was desperate, so she braced for a long night to come and began tracing all the visible or partially visible license plates back to their owners.

 

Around three AM, she napped in her car for half an hour before she went back to work, and by six, she had it narrowed down to three cars that could possibly belong to whoever had taken Derek.

 

There was a large black SUV with tinted windows from a rental company, a truck that belonged to a man named Tuck Garret who lived in the middle of nowhere and of whom she couldn’t find much in the way of records, and another SUV – this one dark blue – whose license plate was supposed to belong to an old Ford, so it was likely a stolen one.

 

Skye decided that Tuck Garret’s involvement was unlikely, and the rental company was in San Francisco, almost three hours out, so she put all her hopes into the blue SUV. She pulled up a list of all the blue SUVs recently reported stolen in the area – there were two, both of them right in Beacon Hills – and wrote down the owners’ addresses as well as the address of the Ford’s owner. It was a long shot, but Skye was willing to do anything to get Derek back.

 

A knock on her window made her flinch and draw her gun instinctively, pointing it at the person who’d just startled her. It was Stiles, standing next to the crappy old jeep she had seen in his driveway.

 

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Skye lowered the gun and rolled down her window. “What are you doing here?” she asked a little too snappy, but she was tired and worried and still didn’t have any solid hints.

 

Stiles raised one eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing. Were you here all night?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I told you, I’m not on board with Scott’s doing-it-strategically plan. I had to something.” His answer was quiet and frankly very surprising. “I’m not either.”

 

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “You’re not?” she asked. “Isn’t he your Alpha?” Stiles snorted. “That doesn’t mean I have to like every single one of his decisions. I agree with you. I think Derek doesn’t have the time to do it strategically. So I’m here to help.”

 

For a long time, Skye just looked at him, trying to figure out whether he was serious, but all she could see on his face was sincere worry and determination, so she gestured towards the door. “Get in.” she said.

 

Stiles dropped into the passenger’s seat and looked at her expectantly. “What do you have?” he asked.

 

Skye sighed. “Not all that much, really. I found a car with a stolen license plate that I think might be the abductor’s, so I’m going to check out the owners of the two SUVs that were stolen recently as well as the owner of the license plate.”

 

She shot him a glance. “Are you in or do you rather want to go to school and wait for the pack meeting?” The last remark came out a little too sharp but Stiles didn’t seem to mind, because he snorted again. “I’m totally in.” he announced. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Derek faded in and out of consciousness.

 

He had at least four broken ribs that sent a surge of pain through his chest every time he took a breath, there were deep cuts and bruises covering every inch of his body that didn’t heal because of the wolfsbane still in his bloodstream and frankly he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t bled out already. Apparently, Dmitri was pretty good at this – inflicting the maximum amount of pain without killing him – but still, Derek hadn’t uttered a single word.

 

He clang to his memories of Skye, to the hope that she would find him and get him out of here, and that was what kept him sane, what kept him from breaking down and giving them what they wanted. Sometimes, when he was on the verge of blacking out from the blood loss and the pain, he could trick himself into hearing her voice, seeing her face, and it made the torture just a little more bearable.

 

He was awake when the door on the other side of the room opened again – it was already morning; there was dim light shining through the dirty windows – and Dmitri entered, this time accompanied only by the woman, Savannah, who was carrying a black leather suitcase. Derek immediately knew that whatever she had in there wasn’t good.

 

Dmitri gave him a wide, cruel grin. “Hello there, Derek.” he said. “Still don’t want to talk?”

 

Very slowly, Derek raised his head and spit a mixture of blood and saliva on the floor in front of the other werewolf. “Go to hell.” he murmured.

 

His grin grew even wider and he looked at the woman. “See?” he said. “I told you he can talk.” He turned back to Derek, his grin giving way to a sadistic anticipation. “After she is done with you, you will sing like a bird.” he whispered, and then he stepped aside to make room for the woman.

 

She was small, almost petite, but her grey eyes were hard and cold and the strange runes on her pale arms seemed to move and wander under his gaze, and something inside of Derek curled up in fear. Somehow, he knew that this woman was infinitely more dangerous than Dmitri.

 

She didn’t smile at him as she spoke, her surprisingly low voice laced with an accent that Derek thought might be Scottish. “This is your last chance to tell us everything you know about the McCall pack.” she said. “Otherwise, I’ll have to use my methods to make you tell us.”

 

Derek didn’t answer, just stared at her until she sighed and nodded sharply. “Fine then. Let’s go to work.”

 

She bent down, opening the black suitcase at her feet. It was filled with bottles full of ominous liquids, various dried herbs and syringes of all different sizes and dread began building up in Derek’s stomach. _Please_ , he thought, this time not even directed towards a specific person. _Please, get me out of here. Just get me out._

With calm, steady movements, Savannah put on disposable gloves and filled a syringe with a clear liquid before grabbing his arm. For the fraction of a second, Derek thought he saw something like regret in her eyes, but it was gone before he could be really sure. She inserted the needle into his arm and injected him with the liquid, and he couldn’t help but flinch as it started burning through his veins.

 

Still eerily calm and collected, she disposed of the syringe and instead grabbed a pot filled with some sort of black ink, dipping her finger into it and drawing a symbol on his arm right where she had injected him. In a voice just above a whisper, she began speaking in a language he did not know, and Derek could feel his eyelids growing heavy while his arm now felt like it was on fire.

 

“Stop… it.” he managed to choke out, but Savannah just kept going, the strange words flowing from her lips like a waterfall, a terrifying sing-song. _Stop,_ Derek tried to say again, but before he could even muster up the strength to take a breath his vision went black.

 

The last thing he heard was Dmitri’s voice.

 

“How long until it reaches his brain?”

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek came to, he wasn’t in the old warehouse anymore. He was lying in his bed in his old room, in the very house that Kate had burned to the ground years ago, and a woman he knew all too well was sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of him.

 

“Hi, Derek.” Laura said and smiled at him.


	25. Twenty-Four

Twenty minutes later, Skye and Stiles pulled up in front of June Wallis’ house, the woman who the first stolen SUV had belonged to. 

Skeptically, Stiles eyed the house while Skye tied her hair back into a ponytail. “Do you think she’ll talk to us?” he asked. “I mean, she doesn’t even know us. Why would she tell us about her stolen car?” 

Skye snorted. “She’ll talk to me.” she said. “There’s a bag under your seat. Give it to me.” Stiles obeyed and reached under his seat, grabbing hold of a small black bag and handing it to her, but his heart skipped a beat when she opened it and he saw what was inside. The bag was filled with countless different IDs, all displaying Skye’s photo, but there weren’t just ordinary passports and driver’s licenses. There were also badges from various government agencies – FBI, CIA, Homeland security, US marshals; anything he could think of. 

She apparently noticed his shocked look, because she gave a dry chuckle and said: “This isn’t the first time I’m doing this, kid. I had to get a lot of people to talk to me, and I really don’t want to be forced to resort to torture all the time.” Stiles was at least ninety percent sure she was joking, so he chose to ignore it and simply mumbled “This is so illegal, my dad’s going to kill me” under his breath while she grabbed a badge that identified her as FBI supervisory special agent Cara Allerton. 

“I’ll be right back.” she said. “Wait here.” And then she was out of the car and walking towards the house, and Stiles could do nothing but stay behind and wait. 

Through the window, he watched Skye ring the doorbell and show her fake badge to the woman that answered. She appeared sure of herself, professional, and it was obvious that this wasn’t the first time she’d posed as a government agent. Stiles was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have doubted her if she’d showed up at his door claiming to be FBI or CIA or whatever. 

The two women didn’t talk for long and when Skye headed back towards the car, Stiles could see from the look on her face that June Wallis hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know. Still, he looked at her expectantly as soon as she’d dropped into the driver’s seat. “And?” he asked. 

She just snorted. “She parked her car in front of the house and it was gone in the morning. There are no surveillance cameras anywhere nearby, so we have no way of finding out who took it. Let’s hope the others are a little more helpful.” And with that, she started the car and pulled out of the street while Stiles couldn’t help but imagine what was being done to Derek right now. 

When Skye returned from her talk to the owner of the license plate, she let out a string of curses in a language Stiles didn’t know and he immediately knew they still had nothing pointing them to whoever took Derek. He didn’t dare ask what they would do next, because Skye appeared as if she was on the verge of breaking down. Instead, he tried to think of any other way they could track Derek down, but came up with nothing. 

It appeared like they would have to do it Scott’s way after all. 

* * *

 

Derek couldn’t move. He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t even breathe. He could only look at Laura, at the face he’d last seen filled with terror on her torn body and that was now smiling at him. Rationally, he knew this couldn’t be real, this had to be a result of whatever Savannah had done to him, but it felt so real. He could feel the mattress under him, could smell Laura’s familiar scent, could hear he heartbeat in her chest. How could they create a hallucination so complex?

Laura chuckled. “What’s up, little brother?” she asked. “Cat got your tongue?” 

Very slowly, Derek sat up, his eyes never leaving her face. “This isn’t real.” he said hoarsely, but he sounded less sure that he’d intended, as if he was trying to convince himself. 

His sister’s smile widened. “Of course it isn’t, stupid.” she said and a small spark of hope inside of him that he hadn’t even realized was there died. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk, does it? I think we got a lot we should talk about.”

He swallowed. There was something sharp about her voice, something glistening in her eyes that was so very unlike Laura. She had always been fierce, even a fighter at times, but she had always loved her family unconditionally, and what he was seeing in her eyes now was pure disgust. “Like what?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. 

“Like the fact you got me killed.” She was still smiling but her words stung like a knife and Derek flinched as if she’d slapped him. 

“I didn’t…” Laura interrupted his weak protest. “You did and I know you know it too. I asked you to come back with me to Beacon Hills when I learned about the werewolf activity there. Hell, I practically begged you. But you refused.” 

She leaned in closer, almost as if she was telling him a secret like she’d used to when they were kids. “If you had come with me, I wouldn’t have been alone that night. I wouldn’t have been torn in half. You got me killed, Derek. Just like the rest of our family.”

This time, Derek didn’t protest, because he knew she was right. He had told himself the same thing countless times. If he had just come with Laura when she asked him to, she would probably still be alive. And if he hadn’t fallen for Kate, his family would still be alive. It was his fault, all of it. It was his fault they were all dead. 

The pain and guilt that he usually managed to keep under control were spreading inside of him, burning through his veins and pushing the air from his lungs. He tried to speak, tried to tell Laura he was sorry, but deep inside he knew that it wouldn’t matter anyway. His apology wouldn’t bring them back. 

Again, Laura chuckled. “See, Derek, it doesn’t end there. If you hadn’t bitten Boyd and Erica, they would also still be alive. Two more people you got killed. Two more lives that ended because of you.”

She cocked her head and looked at him, her eyes piercing into him as if she could see right through him – the exact gaze his mother had always used when he’d misbehaved as a kid. “You know, I don’t even think you’re doing it on purpose. You just have a tendency for making decisions that get other people killed. Does that make you any less guilty though? I don’t think so.” 

A cold, cruel grin danced across her lips. “How long do you think until you get Cora killed too, Derek? Or Scott, Stiles or Isaac? Or that pretty little girl you’ve fallen for? Her name’s Skye, right? How do you think she would look burned to death or torn in half?” 

Derek pressed his hands to his ears, tried to shut Laura’s voice out, tried to make the steady flow of guilt and grief and pain stop. “It’s not real.” he whispered to himself. “It’s not real. This is just a hallucination.” 

This time, Laura full out laughed. “Well, little brother, I might not be real, but your part in all of those deaths certainly is. Isn’t it?” 

He raised his head to see who she was talking to and flinched violently when he saw that they weren’t the only persons in the room anymore. There were his mother and father, all of the family members that had died that day, Paige, Boyd and Erica. They were crowded around Laura who was no longer sitting on the floor but standing up and their accusing gazes were piercing into him.

“Why didn’t you save me?” Paige asked, her dark eyes full of sadness. “You should’ve saved me. Instead, you took my life.”

His mother started talking before Paige was even fully finished. “You got your own family killed, Derek, because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. No wonder you fucked up as an Alpha too.” 

Then Erica’s voice was there, as loud as if she was shouting into his ear. “I could’ve had a life, Derek. But you took that from me. You made me into a monster and then you couldn’t even protect me. I just wanted to be happy.”

Boyd’s voice was very sad and quiet but all the more intense. “Your claws pierced through my heart, Derek. You felt it stop. You felt me die, my blood all over you.”

In a desperate attempt to drown the voices out, Derek buried his head in his hands. “Make it stop.” he whimpered. “Please, I’m sorry, please make it stop, I didn’t mean for this to happen, make it stop, make it stop!”

He screamed until his world went black once again. 


	26. Twenty-Five

The two hours until school was over seemed to drag on infinitely.

 

Skye was on edge, hacking into surveillance cameras all over the part of the city where Derek had gone missing at random, all the while letting sparks dance between her fingers. Stiles had the gun she had given him last night in his lap and was deep in his thoughts, doodling and writing into a notebook only to cross it all out every couple of minutes. Sometimes he seemed like he was going to say something but he never did, and so they only sat next to each other in silence, desperately trying to figure out anything that could lead them to Derek.

 

When it was finally three o’clock, they were the first to show up at Dr. Deaton’s. It didn’t look any different from any other animal clinic but Skye knew from Derek that inside was just about anything Deaton needed to provide for the needs of a pack of werewolves – though right now, she really just cared about whether he could help them find Derek.

 

She followed Stiles inside where a dark-skinned man in a white coat was standing in the doorway like he had been waiting for them. He eyed her with a look she couldn’t really interpret and then simply said: “You must be Skye. Scott told me about you.”

 

“Then I imagine he also told you Derek’s been missing since last night.” Again, her voice was much snappier that she’d intended, but Dr. Deaton’s calm attitude was already beginning to bother. It seemed like she and Stiles were the only ones really worried about Derek.

 

Dr. Deaton nodded, unfazed by her hostile attitude. “He did indeed. Follow me. The pack should be here shortly.” And with that, he turned around and walked through a wooden gate that Skye was pretty sure was built from mountain ash (it made her skin tingle uncomfortably).

 

She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she would never find Derek on her own, before she followed him.

 

* * *

  
  


Lydia felt like crying.

 

She had barely slept the last few days, hadn’t been able to concentrate in class because she constantly felt like falling and falling without ever hitting the ground, and when Scott had told her that someone had taken Derek, this feeling had turned into something even more dreadful. Something was going to happen, something bad. Lydia knew that for sure.

 

Still, all that hadn’t been able to prepare her for the shock she felt when she saw the petite woman standing next to Stiles, because she knew that woman. She knew her dark, wavy hair, the dark eyes that looked much older than she actually was and the full, slightly asymmetrical mouth. Lydia had seen that woman before.

 

The woman’s gaze met hers and Lydia gasped. There was no doubt. This woman – Skye, she remembered now; that’s what Scott had called her when he’d told them about her earlier – was the one she had seen in her vision. The one who the voices told her was going to die.

 

Lydia felt like Skye knew exactly what was going on in her head, like her eyes were piercing into her and seeing right through her, and she was on the verge of saying something – anything – but then Scott started talking.

 

He laid out a strategy to find Derek – patrol the city, track his scent, check abandoned buildings – that didn’t seem all that convincing to Lydia, but she wasn’t really listening anyway. Instead, she was still looking at Skye, her head spinning and her breathing ragged.

 

Lydia was good enough at reading people to figure out that Skye was worried out of her mind for Derek and that she didn’t really agree with Scott’s plan either but that she was desperate enough to try it anyway, but what she couldn’t figure out was whether she should tell her about her vision or not. Did she deserve to know, or would knowing only scare her further and not avert the inevitable? And was what she had seen really inevitable? Was Skye’s death a fixed point now that she had seen it?

 

She shuddered and pushed the thought as far away possible. They had saved people before, people they had already believed dead. Hell, she had literally brought Peter back from the dead (though that hadn’t been the smartest move). She had to believe that it was possible to change the future or she would go insane, damned to see the deaths of people without being able to stop them from happening.

 

Lydia decided that she would not tell Skye, but Scott. Her alpha would know how to protect her. He would know how to keep her safe, how to keep Lydia’s prediction from ever coming true. Everything would be fine.

 

She did not really believe her own words.

 

* * *

 

 

Seven times Savannah injected Derek, seven times she let him live through his talk with Laura, each one worse than the one before, and every time she told him that if he just started talking, she would make it stop.

 

But he didn’t talk, and by the time he broke out of the seventh hallucination, his heart racing and the voices accusing him of being to blame for their deaths echoing in his head, Dmitri and Eli – the blonde werewolf who had joined them again – looked decidedly frustrated.

 

Derek didn’t have the energy to feel triumph. He knew that Laura and Boyd and Erica and his parents and Paige were right; it was his fault they were dead, but Savannah was wrong if she thought this knowledge would make him talk. Instead, it gave him another reason to stay strong, because there were still people out there he hadn’t failed yet, people who he could still protect, even if he had to give his life while doing so. Maybe – just maybe – by saving Scott and Stiles and Skye and the others, he could make up for getting so many other killed.

 

Savannah was talking to Dmitri and Eli now, their voices hushed, and Derek was too exhausted to try and focus on what they were saying, but even in his dazed state of mind he realized that they were fighting. He caught Eli saying something that he thought was “bring the boss in”, to which both Savannah and Dmitri shook their heads decidedly.

 

It took them several minutes to apparently reach an agreement and when they did, Dmitri turned away from the group and walked towards Derek.

 

Derek’s whole body tensed, even though every move hurt. There was a sadistic smile on Dmitri’s lips and Derek knew all too well that this could mean nothing good. Horrible anticipation and dread started building up in his stomach when he tried to imagine something worse than what they had already put him through.

 

 _I just want it to stop_ , he thought, and not for the first time he was tempted to beg them to kill him already, because that would be so much kinder than what they were doing.

 

Dmitri’s grin grew even wider. “I must say, Derek, that was quite impressive.” he said, his voice dangerously calm and quiet. “I have never seen anyone withstand Savannah that long. Maybe there is more of your mother in there than I thought. Shame you got her killed.”

 

Derek couldn’t suppress a snarl, anger and pain flaring up inside of him, and he flinched in pain almost immediately.

 

The older werewolf chuckled. “Easy there, tiger. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

 

“You already took care of that.” Derek spit out, and Dmitri chuckled again. “Indeed we did. But apparently you are a sucker for pain, or at least it’s not making you talk. So we’ll have to start hurting someone else.”

 

He took another step towards him so that his face was only inches from Derek and he could smell his breath. “We’ve been watching you for a while, Derek.” he whispered. “Very pretty girl you got there. Skye, right? How would you feel if we brought her here and gave her a taste of what we can do?”

 

Something inside of Derek exploded and suddenly he didn’t feel the pain anymore. Instead, there was only rage and the overwhelming desire to tear Dmitri to pieces. He was faintly aware that he wasn’t making any conscious decisions anymore, that the wolf inside of him was taking over with his animalistic instincts to _hunt maim kill protect pack protect her,_ but he didn’t care.

 

His bones were shifting under his skin, changing positions, grinding against each other with terrible screeching noises, and for the first time, there was something like fear in Dmitri’s eyes. Derek wanted to smirk, to ask “Who’s laughing now?” but all that came out was a bone-chilling growl. He was no longer a man. He was a big black wolf, and the restraints couldn’t hold him anymore.

 

He slipped out of them with ease and went straight for Dmitri’s throat.

 


	27. Twenty-Six

They did not find the slightest clue where Derek was. 

All afternoon and most of the evening they searched the city in two groups – Skye was with Scott and Stiles while Lydia and Allison were with Isaac – but neither of them found any trace of Derek or caught his scent. By the time Scott decided it was time to call off the search for the day, Skye was practically panicking and ready to tear the whole city apart to get Derek back. 

But she didn’t argue against his decision. Instead, she absentmindedly agreed to meeting again the next day while already going over any and all weapons she had in her apartment and how much damage she could do with them. (A lot – probably enough to draw the attention of any supernatural being in or around Beacon Hills to her.)

Skye realized that her plan to just make them – whoever they were – notice her and hopefully lure them into a trap when – if, really – they came looking for her was suicidal, that it was much more likely to attract the Guardians’ attention and get both Derek and her killed, but she was desperate and out of options, and there was no way she was giving up on Derek if there was even the slightest chance she could still save him.

She had a feeling Stiles knew she was planning something – he shot her a weird glance when she agreed with Scott – but he didn’t say anything, and she was thankful for that. So there was nobody stopping her when she got into her car and drove off, her hands shaking with worry. 

The sun had long since set and Skye hurried towards her apartment building as soon as she’d gotten out of the car, eager to gather her weapons, when a sudden noise like a whimper had her stop in her tracks. 

She looked around, barely able to see anything in the dark, but then she heard the noise again, much louder this time. It sound like a wounded, terrified animal and it definitely came from the small patch of trees right next to her apartment building.

Instinctively, she let her hand flare up blue and very slowly walked towards the trees. For a few seconds, everything was dead silent until a shadow emerged from the trees and Skye’s heart skipped a beat when she recognized what it was. 

It was a wolf, black as the night around him and its shoulder almost as high as hers. It would’ve been terrifying if it hadn’t been for the fact that it barely seemed to be able to keep on its feet. The black fur was dark and sticky with blood, one leg appeared to be broken and there were still occasional whimpers of pain coming from the animal. 

Skye stood frozen in place, staring at the huge animal, when it did something that almost made her heart leap out of her chest. It crossed the few steps between them with what seemed like an enormous effort and dodged her chest with its nose before collapsing in front of her, eyes still piercing into hers. 

And that was when Skye recognized him. She knew those eyes, and as soon as realization hit her she fell to her knees next to the wolf. “Oh god.” she whispered, her heart racing in her chest and her hands shaking uncontrollably as she helplessly reached for him. “Oh god, Derek, please be okay. Come one, Derek, you have to turn back.” 

She wasn’t sure if he could even hear her – he seemed mostly passed out – but the wolf’s body began shifting and changing under her hands until the Derek she knew was lying in front of her, looking even worse than he had in his wolf form. There were deep bloody gashes all over his torso, his leg seemed not only fractured but crushed and his breathing was shallow and irregular. 

Skye forced herself to take a deep breath. She couldn’t panic now. She had to make sure Derek was okay, and for that she had to be focused and calm. “You have to help me here, Derek.” she said, and her voice sounded much calmer than she felt. “I can’t carry you upstairs. Can you try and walk?”

His eyelids fluttered open and he tried pushing himself off the ground, wincing at every movement. Skye felt her muscles straining as she pulled him up, but she ignored it, even as her bones ached when Derek leaned onto her almost entirely. 

“You’ll be okay.” she said while she slowly led him towards the building, more to reassure herself than him. “It’s only one flight of stairs. You’re going to be fine.” She could feel his blood seeping through her clothes and panic tore at the edges of her mind, but she managed to keep it out until they were safely in her apartment and Derek collapsed on the couch. 

He was still only semi-conscious, but when Skye got the first-aid-kit and started cutting away what was left of his shirt to get a better look at his injuries, his gaze found hers, even though he appeared to have trouble focusing. 

“Skye?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, and she forced herself to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m here.” she said. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now.” He flinched as her hand brushed across one of the cuts on his chest and Skye reached for the Vicodin and a glass of water. 

“Swallow.” she said as she gently put the glass to his lips and Derek obeyed without any protest. Swallowing seemed to hurt him even more than breathing, because she had the feeling he was trying very hard to stay conscious when he mumbled: “’m sorry. They… aah.” 

He whimpered in pain when she began cleaning the worst of the gashes on his torso, and Skye could almost physically feel his pain. She hated that she had to hurt him even more, but she’d had enough first-aid training to know what she was doing.

“I’m so sorry.” she whispered. “The Vicodin will kick in soon. Just focus on my voice, okay? Just stay with me, Derek. You’ll be okay.” 

He didn’t say anything more, but he seemed to relax a little, and it didn’t take long until he faded out of consciousness again. Skye kept on working with almost robotic movements, patching up the cuts, setting his leg with a makeshift brace and listening to his breathing to keep herself calm. When she was done, she just sat on the chair next to the sofa and tried not to breathe through her nose because the smell of Derek’s blood was everywhere. 

She spent all night there, making sure he didn’t stop breathing, and didn’t allow herself to think about what would happen if he didn’t make it. 

* * *

 

“They are what?”

The woman’s voice was perfectly composed, but somehow that made her sound even more dangerous. Though she wasn’t especially tall, she towered over the petite black-haired woman in front of her, and the glare from her piercing grey eyes would’ve made anyone shrink. 

“Dmitri’s dead, Eli’s barely hanging on.” Savannah said, her face unmoved and her voice revealing nothing of her emotions either. “We are not sure he’s going to make it either. Hale tore them apart. We didn’t know he was able to transform completely. I barely made it out alive.” 

For a moment, the other woman seemed to shake with anger, then she took a deep breath and folded her hands in front of her body. “This is certainly a terrible loss.” she said. “Dmitri and Eli were some of our best fighters. But fighters can be replaced. You, on the other hand, Savannah… if we would’ve lost you that would’ve been truly devastating. You are irreplaceable.”

“Thank you.” Savannah said, but her face was still devoid of any emotion. 

The other woman squared her shoulders and turned toward a plump brunette who was standing silently in a corner of the room. “Yvonne, get the Captain for me.” she said. “We need to work on a plan of attack.” Yvonne nodded and vanished through the door without making a single noise. 

She slowly walked towards one of the high windows and looked upon the spectacular view of Beacon Hills they had from here. “We will not let him get away with this, Savannah.” she said. “We will make him wish he was never born, and by the time we’re done with him, I won’t even have to make him join us. He’ll do it because we will have completely broken him.”

Suddenly, the look on her face looked like that of a kid who had just gotten a present. “Just imagine, Savannah.” she said, a wide smile on her face. “We will gain a true alpha and a shifter, and who knows what else. It will be like Christmas.”

Savannah nodded, the ghost of a smile on her face. “It will.” she echoed. 

For a few minutes, there was complete silence as neither of the two women did more than stare into nothingness, then a sadistic smile slowly crept over the tall woman’s lips. “You say he snapped when you mentioned the girl, right?” she asked.

Again, Savannah nodded. “Yes. Why?” 

The other woman’s grin grew even wider. “You told me he broke under neither Dmitri’s nor your treatment. He’s obviously resilient. But this is how we get to him, how we break him. We simply hurt her instead of him.”

Her eyes sparkled and for a moment she didn’t even look human anymore. “Call Victor Ford for me, will you?” she asked. “Tell him we found the Abernathy brat.” 


	28. Twenty-Seven

Pain.

 

Before he was even fully conscious, Derek registered that he was in pain. His leg felt like it had been crushed, there was a sharp pain every time he took a breath and his head was pounding like crazy, making it hard to form any clear thought. But he also registered that he wasn’t tied to the metal pole anymore but lying on something soft and comfortable, that most of the cuts on his body felt like they had been stitched up and that there was another heartbeat in the room – a familiar one.

 

With an enormous act of willpower, Derek forced his eyes to open, struggling to keep them open against the blending light that made his headache even worse. It took him a few moments to be able to see anything and realize where he was and when he did, a wave of relief flooded his body. Skye’s apartment – which meant that the other heartbeat was hers.

 

“Skye?”

 

His voice was barely audible, nothing more than a weak whisper, but she seemed to have heard him, because she was at his side in the blink of an eye. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days and the obvious worry on her face made her look years older but when she smiled at him, Derek’s pain suddenly became a lot more bearable.

 

“You’re awake.” she said, relief obvious in her voice. “How are you feeling?”

 

He snorted and winced when this made his chest ache. “Been better.” he murmured. “What happened?”

 

“I found you outside of my building.” Skye explained. “You were pretty beaten up. I… I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it.” She sounded very young and very scared as she said this, and Derek wanted to hug her and never let her go again. But since every movement hurt, he settled on very slowly and painfully lifting himself up to a sitting position.

 

Memories began coming back to him, most of them in pieces and weirdly contorted, as if he had seen them through someone else’s eyes, and that was when he realized what had happened. The wolf inside of him had taken over and he had turned completely – something he had only ever seen his mother do. There were pictures in his mind of Dmitri and Eli, bloody messes on the floor, which indicated that he had gone up against both of them – and won, apparently.

 

“I killed them.” he whispered, and Skye looked at him in confusion. “Killed who?” she asked. “And how did you even get out of there? What did they want? Who were they?”

 

Derek drew in a shaky breath and started talking, even though he didn’t really want to remember what they had done to him. “There were three of them.” he said. “They were part of a pack, I think. They wanted me to tell them everything I knew about our pack. I refused to talk, so they… tortured me.”

 

Skye’s hand slipped into his, as if she could feel his distress, and he squeezed it instinctively, holding on to her. “When that didn’t work, they threatened to hurt you. I got so angry… I just snapped. It never happened before, but I turned completely. I killed them… two of them. At least I think I did.”

 

His voice got quieter and quieter as he spoke so it was barely audible by the end, but Skye still stared at him in shock, another expression on her face he couldn’t quite read. “You went up against all of them just to protect me?” she asked, her voice not much louder than his had been and trembling almost imperceptibly.

 

Very slowly, he nodded his head. Skye just looked at him, her face centimeters from his, and for the first time he realized just how much she meant to him – that he would tear the world apart if it meant he could keep her safe. Her sweet smell was everywhere, the skin of her hand was impossibly soft against his, her heartbeat was the only thing he could hear, and he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to kiss her so badly…

 

She kissed him.

 

For a moment he was frozen in place, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think because Skye’s lips on his were all he could feel, then he ignored the burning pain in his chest and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her back properly.

 

She made a small breathy sound that he found more adorable than he probably should have, and he could feel her hands slowly sliding into his hair. Derek shivered and deepened the kiss, his pain suddenly very far away.

 

He knew now that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Kissing Skye, holding her, seemed right, like it had been inevitable – and maybe it had been; Derek was sure he couldn’t have resisted Skye much longer. Now here he was, and he thanked whatever deity there might be that he had made it out of that warehouse alive.

 

After a period of time that felt like an eternity but way too short at the same time, their kiss was interrupted by the first few notes of a rock song Derek didn’t know the title of. Skye abruptly leaned back, reaching for her phone, and he flinched at the sudden movement, not so much at the pain but at the kiss ending way too soon.

 

He raised an eyebrow when Skye read the caller ID and let out a string of foreign curse words that he guessed were Chinese. “I don’t like this interruption either, but those seemed like some impressive curses.” he joked weakly and it got a smile out of her – which was what he had been aiming for; he loved her smile. “It’s Scott.” she mouthed. “Wait.”

 

Confused, Derek looked at her. If Scott had Skye’s number, that meant they had to have met some time while he had been gone. How long had they held him captive anyway? Two days, three? He couldn’t really tell; he hadn’t been conscious most of the time. Maybe Skye had gone to Scott for help, like he’d hoped she would – not that it had helped. He was still a bit dazed from the pain – and the kiss, to be honest – but Skye’s curses probably meant that she’d forgotten to tell Scott that he was okay – well, mostly okay.

 

He tried his best to focus on Scott’s voice on the other side of the phone in spite of his headache and even though this effort made his world sway a little, he heard Scott – faintly, but audible.

 

“Where are you? We were supposed to meet at Deaton’s before…” Skye interrupted him. “I got him, Scott. He showed up at my apartment last night. He’s pretty beaten up, but he’ll be okay. Sorry I didn’t call.”

 

There was a stunned silence and Derek could almost imagine Scott’s shocked face. It was weirdly reassuring to know that Scott had worried about him, that he had looked for him, even though they didn’t have the best of relationships. But nothing of that compared to the feeling of Skye sitting right next to him, so close they were still touching, and shooting him occasional glances while she quietly talked to Scott, the exact words she was saying not really registering with him.

 

 _God, I’m in love with her,_ he thought, and as soon as he’d thought it, he knew that it was the truth. He was madly and completely in love with Skye.

 

Deep inside of him, there was still the fear he would lose her or she would betray him or something else would happen to break his heart again – the way things usually ended for him – but frankly, he couldn’t care less. Because Skye was right there and she was kind and caring and smart and strong and everything he had fallen in love with, and when she ended the call, he kissed her again before she had the chance to say anything.

 

He could feel her smile against his lips as she pressed closer to him and kissed him back, and when he let her go, she looked at him with a slight smile on her lips that made her eyes sparkle. “What was that for?” she asked quietly.

 

“Being you.” he replied, his voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper. “I, uh… thank you, Skye.”

 

She just looked at him, her eyes glistening with what he recognized as uncried tears. “Please don’t do this to me again, Derek.” she whispered. “I was so scared… I can’t lose another person I care about. I just can’t.”

 

He forced himself to smile and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest and again ignoring the sharp pain that probably originated from a few broken ribs. She buried her head on his shoulder and he could feel her heartbeat against his chest.

 

“You won’t.” he whispered into her hair. “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

 

He really hoped he could keep that promise.


	29. Twenty-Eight

They spent the morning on the couch with new episodes of Orange is the New Black.

 

Skye made Derek take several more pills of Vicodin, because his enhanced metabolism made the effect wear off very quickly and she knew he was in pain, even though he did his best to conceal it, and kissed him whenever she felt like it, which was a lot – because, really, kissing him had been all she wanted to do for weeks.

 

If it wasn’t for what had happened in the last few days, for the mysterious group threatening them and for Derek being hurt, this was what she would imagine a perfectly happy morning to look like – sitting on the couch, snuggled into Derek’s side, his arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders. Around eleven or twelve, they both dozed off – Derek probably due to being weak and hurt, Skye because she hadn’t slept all night – and awoke just before two, only half an hour before the time she’d agreed with Scott to meet at Deaton’s clinic.

 

Derek’s leg still looked far from healed, but he insisted he could walk – which he indeed could, though with a heavy limp and an expression of pain on his face that he tried his best to hide but Skye could see anyway. She slipped her hand into his on the way down; half because she feared his leg would simply give in, half because touching him was weirdly calming.

 

He groaned quietly as he slowly lowered himself into the passenger seat and Skye shot him a worried gaze, to which he rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Skye.” he said, but he didn’t sound annoyed, more like he wanted to calm her. “It takes a lot more to knock me down.”

 

She leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the lips and didn’t believe him for a second.

 

He was downplaying what had happened to him – like he did so frequently when they talked about his family – and even though his physical wounds would heal, she wasn’t so sure about what emotional damage the torture had done. She had seen the look in his eyes when he had talked about it – pain, guilt, fear – and she knew that this would only make the nightmares he already had worse. God, how she wished she could take this from him.

 

The drive to Deaton’s animal clinic didn’t take long, and neither of them talked much. Skye was deep in her thoughts, already making up plans and strategies for what to do if this mysterious pack attacked – when, really; it was only a matter of time now – and she was pretty sure Derek’s thoughts were drifting into the same direction, because his face was the hardened mask it had been when they’d gone to confront Hardy.

 

When they got out of the car, Skye slipped her hand into his and Derek gave her a weak smile. “We’re going to be okay.” she said.

 

Derek didn’t say anything and she knew he didn’t believe her – and honestly, she didn’t fully believe herself.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek looked like shit.

 

That was the first thing Stiles thought when the older werewolf entered. He was limping heavily, his leg evidently pretty messed up, and he moved very carefully, as if every movement hurt. The look on his face was even grumpier than usual – no, grumpy wasn’t the right word. Haunted, maybe? Yes, Stiles decided, Derek looked haunted.

 

He felt a wave of sympathy and then relief – feelings he saw mirrored on Skye’s face as she entered behind Derek. She flashed him a quick smile and Stiles smiled back, understanding the message behind it. _Thank you for helping me look for him. Thank you for not giving up on him._

“Thank god you’re okay.” That was Isaac, and Stiles knew that the young werewolf was being honest. Along with himself and Skye, Isaac had probably been the one most sincerely worried about Derek. With Scott and the former Alpha, it was more of a love-hate-relationship, Allison definitely wasn’t a fan, and with Lydia Stiles never really knew.

 

Derek’s lips twisted into something that was probably supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace, but before he could say anything, Scott asked: “Who took you, Derek? What did they want?”

 

Stiles thought it was a little insensitive of Scott to come at Derek like that, to demand information before even asking if he was okay, but he understood why his best friend was doing it. He was the Alpha; he needed to protect his pack, and protecting the pack meant to get as much information about the impending attack as possible – and Stiles was realistic enough to know for sure that an attack would come.

 

Derek seemed to understand it too – maybe better than Stiles; after all, he had been an Alpha as well – because he didn’t seem offended by Scott’s questions. Instead, his whole body tensed for a second, a barely detectable movement, before he started talking.

 

“They surprised me on my way to Skye’s.” he said quietly. “They drugged me – wolfsbane, I think – and took me to some sort of warehouse. There were three of them, two men, one woman. The men were werewolves, but I’m not sure about the woman. I think she was a druid. She had all sorts of drugs and poisons.”

 

He paused for a moment and Stiles knew him well enough by now to realize that he was trying to keep his composure. With a hint of surprise, he noticed Skye’s hand slipping into Derek’s but didn’t say anything as the former Alpha started talking again.

 

“They tortured me to get information about the pack. When I didn’t talk, they threatened…” He stopped talking mid-sentence, but the quick glance towards Skye and the way he instinctively stepped in front of her told Stiles exactly what they had threatened to do. Derek’s demeanor only confirmed what the way Skye had acted had already told him – their relationship went much deeper than either of them admitted.

 

Derek cleared his throat and continued. “I don’t know how I did it, but I turned completely. I fought them, got out somehow. I remember running away, but everything’s a blur after that.”

 

Skye jumped in, filling in the blanks. “I found him outside of my apartment, still as a wolf. He turned back and I stitched him up. I didn’t think about calling until you called, Scott. It was…” She hesitated for a second, swallowed hard, then she said: “He was pretty badly hurt. I think it was touch and go for a while.”

 

Stiles’ gaze wandered to Derek, who was looking at Skye with a look on his face he had never seen on him before. It was a mixture of guilt, worry and – well, the way Scott looked at Allison. The way his dad had looked at his mom. The way he had once looked at Lydia. Like she was the single most amazing being in the whole world.

 

“Were they looking for any particular information?” Scott asked.

 

Derek shook his head. “Not really. They wanted to know about the pack members, how many there are, what they can do… stuff like that.”

 

Stiles snorted. “They probably want to know what they have to go up against before they can get to their scavenging business.” he said, remembering what Lydia had told them about her vision. “Probably, yeah.” Scott replied, but before he could say anything else, Skye interrupted him.

 

“What did you say?” Her face had turned pale and she looked as if she had realized something horrible. “What did you say, Stiles?” she asked again, more urgently this time. “Why did you say they’re going to get to their scavenging business?”

 

He looked at her confused, not knowing what she was getting at. “Because that’s what Lydia said they came here to do.” he replied. “To hunt, kill and scavenge.”

 

Skye drew in a trembling breath, and the feeling that something was terribly wrong started building up inside of Stiles as she turned to Derek. “Did they tell you their names?” she asked.

 

Derek nodded, appearing as confused as Stiles was. “Yes. Dmitri, Eli and Savannah. Why?”

 

A string of curses in a foreign language left Skye’s lips, not unlike those Stiles had heard her use during their search for Derek, before she turned to look at the again, a look on her face that, frankly, scared Stiles a little – it reminded him of a soldier ready to go into a battle he couldn’t win.

 

“Because I think I know who they are.” she said. “And if I’m right, we have a giant problem.”


	30. Twenty-Nine

Skye was overtaken by a strange calmness as her mind pieced things together.

 

A pack, but not all of them werewolves, looking for information about their pack members’ abilities. The announcement that they would hunt and kill them and then scavenge the remains. Three names of which two were completely unknown to her but one – Dmitri – had quite the reputation. It all pointed to one conclusion, and Skye knew she only needed to make one phone call to be sure.

 

“What are you talking about? Who are they?” Scott’s voice registered with a few seconds delay, but Skye didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled out her phone and said: “I need to make a call.”

 

Her fingers found the right keys on their own – she had carefully memorized the number because she couldn’t risk writing it down somewhere – and it only took a few seconds until the call was answered by a heavily accented voice. “Who is this?”

 

“It’s Skye.” she said. “I need your help, Walt.”

 

Walter Zimmermann was one of the few dozen gifted people left in the world. She had met him while taking down a Guardians’ base in Germany and had been amazed how he, a lonely old man well over the age of seventy, had managed to stay alive for so long – until she had learned about what he could do. Walt wasn’t a great fighter, but he had the ability to foresee the future – only a few hours, and only events that involved him, but that was enough to always stay a few steps ahead of the Guardians.

 

They had been in sporadic contact ever since their first meeting – Walt knew a lot of things about the Guardians and everything else connected to the supernatural that had helped Skye in her vendetta – and if anybody knew what was going on here, it was him.

 

“What can I do for you, _Kleines?_ ” he asked, his voice weirdly cheerful considering she mostly called him when she was in trouble. “You can tell me everything you know about the Scavengers.” she said.

 

She could hear Walt draw in a sharp breath. “The Scavengers… they’re bad news. Very bad news. Why do you want to know about them?” She had to suppress a snort. Everything that happened to her always seemed to be bad news. “Because I think they might be threatening the town I’m staying at.”

 

The old man gave a deep sigh. “I can only give you one advice then. Get out of there as fast as you can. You don’t want to get between the Scavengers and their prey.”

 

Skye’s gaze flashed towards Derek, towards Stiles and Scott and Isaac and Allison and Lydia, all looking at her expectantly. She knew that leaving would be the smartest thing to do, she knew that just a few months ago she would’ve done exactly that, but now she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave them behind. She couldn’t let them fight against an enemy they knew nothing about. “I can’t do that.” she said quietly.

 

Again, Walt sighed and mumbled something in German she didn’t understand before saying: “What do you need to know?” “Everything.” she simply replied, causing him to give a dry, joyless chuckle. “Okay then. I assume you know about their leader?”

 

“Yes.” Skye said, remembering all the stories she had been told in her youth about the Scavengers’ leader – the infamous Raina Blackwood, renegade and traitor – and shuddering. “But I thought she was out of the picture, somewhere in Europe.”

 

“Well, she was.” Walt replied. “From what I heard, she moved the Scavengers to Philadelphia about a year ago. I presume she wanted to turn America into her hunting ground again.” Skye tensed. That meant it was entirely possible Raina had somehow learnt about the admittedly very unusual pack in Beacon Hills and had come here to pick up new recruits.

 

“How many members are we talking?” she asked.

 

“Fifteen, maybe more. A couple of werewolves, mostly Alphas, one druid and one banshee as far as I know, and I’ve heard rumors she recruited a military guy. I don’t know any names – except her attack dog Dmitri, of course. But I assume you knew about him, too.”

 

“Dmitri is dead. I killed him.” That was Derek, his voice hard and cold, and Skye flashed him a quick glance, noticing the pain and guilt hidden deep within his eyes before telling Walt what he had said.

 

The old man seemed genuinely impressed. “Your friend must be a damn good fighter if he took Dmitri down.” he said. “Raina didn’t keep him around all these years for no reason.”

 

Skye didn’t say anything. She was pretty sure that Derek had mostly been guided by his instincts when he had fought against Dmitri; that he had been a cornered and hurt animal with nothing to lose. She was also sure that Derek wasn’t proud but just wanted to forget what had happened. Unfortunately, there was more where Dmitri had come from.

 

“There’s not much more I can tell you.” Walt said, interrupting her thoughts. “Only that you should really stay away. There’s a reason we never confronted Raina, even when we were still many.” His voice was full of wistfulness when he said this, and Skye could feel the old familiar flicker of pain inside of her.

 

It hurt every time, to remember what it had been like before the Guardians had slaughtered almost every gifted person in the worlds, and for Walt it had to be so much worse, because while she had been raised into this war, he had grown up in a time when gifted people had lived in peace – something Skye had never really known. She could only imagine how hard it was for him to see everything he’d once had shattered into pieces.

 

Walt had never told her if he’d had a family before the war, and she’d never asked. She knew from experience that it was easier to simply not talk about the things one had lost, and she wasn’t about to force Walt to speak about his past when she hadn’t done so herself. Of course, he still knew about her family. The Abernathys had been one of the biggest and oldest branches of her kind, and their death had been the moment when everyone had realized they were going to lose. _But the Guardians lost too,_ Skye thought with a bitter kind of satisfaction.

 

“I know.” she said. “But you know I’m not the kind of person who runs from danger.”

 

Walt snorted. “No, you certainly aren’t. You are the kind of person who runs head first into it.” He sighed again. “Well, good luck then. You’ll need it. And call me when this is over.” His unspoken “if you’re still alive” hung heavy in the air, and Skye swallowed hard.

 

“Thank you, Walt.” she said very quietly. “For everything.” She could hear the sad smile in his voice as he replied: “Anytime, _Kleines._ Take care of yourself.” His voice was barely audible as he added: “ _Du erinnerst mich an meine Tochter.“_

“What was that?” Skye asked, confused at his sudden use of German. “Nothing important.” Walt replied. “Call me, Skye.” And then he ended the call without another word.

 

As soon as she’d put her phone back into her pocket, her gaze met expectant faces. Derek was the one who asked the question, his voice slightly unsure as if he didn’t really want to know the answer. “Who is Raina?”

 

Skye took a deep breath and started to recount the horror stories from her childhood to the pack. “She was born into a gifted family, like me.” she said. “A few years before the war started. As soon as her powers started to manifest, everyone knew that she could just be the one to tip the scale.”

 

“What is her power?” Scott asked, and Skye’s answer came immediately. “Will manipulation. One touch and you do whatever she wants you to do. It doesn’t work on other gifted people though, which made us think it was the perfect tool to use against the Guardians. It seemed like a dream, to just be able to make them back off and never bother us again.”

 

“I’m sensing a but.” Stiles said, causing her to give a dry chuckle. “There’s always a but.” she mumbled quietly before going on with her story. “Raina liked the power she had over other people. She liked it too much. She started using it just for fun, just to see how much she could make people do. And then, when she was sixteen, she made a woman jump off a building. That was when her family threw her out.”

 

“Understandable.” Derek murmured, then asked: “What happened then?”

 

Skye gave him a look that already said everything. “Then she started recruiting the Scavengers. A perfect army made of the strongest people she could possibly find. And they are all one hundred percent loyal to her.” A brief pause, then: “That’s what she’s here for. She wants to recruit new members, members from your pack.”

 

She hesitated for a few seconds that felt like an eternity before quietly adding: “And the rest, the ones she doesn’t want – they have to die.”

 


	31. Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the long break, I was on vacation. And fair warning: it gets steamy in this chapter.

It was dark by the time Skye and Derek arrived back at her apartment.

 

They had discussed Raina and the Scavengers for hours, trying to come up with a plan on how to face them and in the end always circling back to the same conclusion – all they could do was wait for the inevitable attack and when it came, Skye would have to be the one to go up against Raina, as she was the only one not affected by her power.

 

Strangely, she wasn’t nervous or scared. The inevitableness of it all, the fact that the choice came down to fighting or leaving Derek behind and therefore wasn’t really a choice at all, made it impossible to be worried. The only thing she could do now was hope, hope that somehow she would make it through this, too.

 

She could tell that Derek was worried, but not about himself – he kept shooting her glances that told her he was mostly worried about her. He was unusually quiet on the way home, even for him, and when they arrived, he wordlessly followed her inside, his limp almost gone by now. The place still smelled of his blood and Skye had to suppress the urge to throw up.

 

Somehow, Derek must have noticed her discomfort because his hand was on her back before she even noticed he had moved, a reassuring gesture that told her he was there, he was okay. She leaned against him, enjoying the comforting feeling of his chest against her back, enjoying the way his arms wrapped around her protectively.

 

“We’re going to be okay.” he whispered into her ear, the same words she had used earlier, and like before, Skye knew that neither of them believed his words.

 

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned around and kissed him, her body pressing even closer to his. Derek didn’t hesitate to kiss her back and within a few seconds, he had lifted her up so she was sitting on the kitchen counter, her legs wrapped around his hips and her hands buried somewhere in his hair.

 

Their shirts were discarded very quickly but while she let her hands roam all over his body, admiring the way his muscles bulged under his skin, his hands stayed at her waist, never moving upwards or downwards, even though she desperately wanted him to touch her.

 

She pulled away a little, looking at Derek with a small smile on her face. “Now’s not the time to be a gentleman, you know.” she said a little out of breath. Derek smirked and in a matter of seconds, he had literally ripped her bra off and thrown it away. “That better?” he asked teasingly.

 

Skye gave a fake pout. “That was my favorite bra.” she complained half-heartedly while Derek was slowly kissing his way down her neck, his hands now delightfully rough against the bare skin of her breasts. He pulled away for a second to meet her eyes again. “I’ll buy you a new one.” he said, still with that smirk on his face that made something inside of her flutter. “I’ll even help you pick.”

 

She wanted to say something but before she could, Derek’s mouth had found that one spot on her neck and for a few seconds her thoughts were an incoherent mess of _yes yes please more._

When he pulled away once more and looked at her again, he appeared very satisfied with himself. “You liked that?” he asked.

 

In response, Skye pushed her hips against the bulge she could feel inside of his pants and moved up and down, making Derek moan in pleasure. She smirked. “You liked that?” she echoed.

Derek growled lowly – something that for some reasons she found incredibly sexy – and kissed her once more, his lips hard and demanding against her. He was lifting her up again now, carrying her towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving hers. Every thought about the Scavengers was gone from her mind.

 

He threw her onto the bed and was on top of her in the blink of an eye, tugging at her pants until they were gone while he wiggled out of his. His erection was perfectly visible through his boxers and Skye wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of her. “Get that off.” she murmured against his lips, her hands reaching for the hem of his boxers. He obeyed her command without protest and ripped of her panties immediately afterwards.

 

“You’ll have to buy those for me too.” she whispered and Derek gave a quiet, breathless laugh. “Don’t worry, I will.”

 

His lips were gone from hers now, wandering down between her breast and across her belly and then between her legs. Skye’s back arched off the mattress as he found the exact right spot and she moaned loudly. “Oh god, Derek, yes.” she gasped, barely thinking straight.

 

Her last bit of composure left her when Derek started circling her clit with his tongue. She was practically begging him now – _yes more please more_ – until his touch sent her over the edge and the pleasure overwhelmed her.

 

Skye’s orgasm was barely over when Derek’s face was in front of hers again. He just looked her for a moment – a look that made her feel as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world – before kissing her gently and softly.

 

“I want you.” she whispered very quietly, but Derek had evidently heard her because he was inside of her only seconds later. Skye gasped and began rocking her hips against him until they found a steady rhythm, his hands still everywhere over her body. It didn’t take long for her to come again, and Derek came only seconds later, shuddering and then collapsing above her.

 

His skin was slick with sweat as he rolled off of her and Skye thought he had never looked sexier. For a while, she just stared at him, still very much out of breath, before she asked: “Aren’t werewolves also supposed to have super stamina?”

 

Derek looked at her and chuckled. “I like the way you think.” He gave her a short, sweet kiss on the forehead. “Give me ten minutes and I’m ready for another round.”

 

* * *

 

 

Elsewhere, the rest of the pack wasn’t having half as much fun. They were discussing Aiden’s offer which Lydia had told them about earlier – the twins’ offer to join their pack as fighters in the face of the coming danger.

 

Stiles didn’t really know what to think about it. On one hand he didn’t trust the twins one bit – not after everything they’d done to them – but on the other hand he knew perfectly well that they needed every fighter they could get if they wanted to stand a chance against the Scavengers. And if there was one thing the twins were great at it was definitely fighting.

 

Still, Stiles didn’t feel good about letting them join their pack, not even temporarily, but he could tell that Scott was seriously considering it, and honestly, he couldn’t blame him. Scott was only doing what he could to protect his pack and if that meant recruiting the twins – well, Stiles wasn’t going to oppose his Alpha on a decision he could understand, even if he didn’t fully agree with him. And if having Aiden and Ethan on their side increased their chances of winning, who was he to complain?

 

When he told Scott so, his best friend looked incredibly relieved. Stiles knew that he was still getting used to being the one in charge, and making decisions that not everyone in the pack agreed with was something he very much hated to do.

 

Lydia had already told everyone that she thought they should take the offer, and while Allison still looked skeptical, Stiles was pretty sure she was leaning towards the same opinion as Scott and Lydia. Isaac was now the only one who was clearly against entering into any kind of alliance with the twins, but even he had to admit that the twins were better fighters than most of them.

 

So against his protests and in spite of Stiles’ bad feeling, the decision was made to take the twins up on their offer. Scott would talk the them the next day to see if the offer still stood and then they would meet up with Skye and Derek again to come up with some kind of plan (though Stiles couldn’t help but wonder how they would do that, since hours of discussing today hadn’t brought them any closer to anything resembling a plan).

 

When Stiles finally drove home close to midnight, it was with a sinking feeling in his stomach that accompanied him all the way into his dreams.


	32. Thirty-One

****

When Skye abruptly opened her eyes, not sure what had woken her, the clock on her nightstand told her that it was a little after three o’clock.

 

She blinked into the dark, confused as to what had woken her – she hadn’t had a nightmare; the usual cause of her nightly insomnia – but as soon as her eyes had gotten used to the dark, she realized that Derek was lying next to her anymore but was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her.

 

“Derek? Are you okay?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

 

He didn’t look at her as he answered. “Yeah. Go back to sleep, Skye.”

 

Skye immediately knew that he wasn't okay at all. She slowly crawled across the bed, wrapping her arms around him from behind. His muscles were as tense under her touch as if he was expecting an attack at any moment. “Nightmare?” she asked quietly.

 

She could feel him hold his breath, his body hard and unmoving, but then he relaxed abruptly and let himself fall against her. “Yes.” he said barely audible.

 

Skye pulled him closer and back onto the bed until he was lying half on top of her, his head buried somewhere against her shoulder, and then she simply held him, running her fingers through his soft black hair. She had the feeling that he hadn’t be held in a very long time, that he usually woke up from his nightmares to a cold and empty apartment that did nothing to make him feel better – just like she did.

 

“It’s okay.” she whispered. “You’re safe now. I got you. It was just a dream. It’s over now.”

 

Slowly, she could feel the tension fading from his body and his breathing steadying. Still, he didn’t say anything for several minutes; just lay there until he finally rolled off of her so he could look her in the eye.

 

“I’m sorry.” he murmured, his eyes dark with shame.

 

“Don’t be.” she said, her face just centimeters from his. “Anyone would have nightmares.”

 

He rolled onto his back, turning his gaze away from her silently, and Skye scooted closer, resting her head on his shoulder and draping an arm across his torso. His heart was still beating too fast under her touch. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked quietly.

 

Derek swallowed audibly. “I don’t… not really, no.”

 

She placed a soft kiss on his jawline. “Okay.” she whispered.

 

They simply lay like this for quite some time and Skye was very close to drifting off to sleep again when he began speaking again out of the blue, his voice so quiet she could barely hear him. “They made me see things – people, really. All the people that… that died because of me. My family, Paige, Erica and Boyd. They were all there, and they told me that it was my fault they’re dead. Again and again and again.”

 

His voice cracked and Skye could feel him draw in a trembling breath. She sat up abruptly, anger towards the people who had done that to him building up inside of her.

 

“Derek, none of this was your fault.” she said decidedly. “No one could’ve known what would happen to Paige. Your family died because of Kate, and Erica and Boyd were killed by Deucalion and his pack. It wasn’t your fault they died. And believe me, I know what guilt feels like. But I also know for sure that you are a good man and you aren’t to blame for any of those deaths.”

 

He looked up to her, still looking skeptical, but she thought that the pain and guilt in his eyes were a little less obvious now. She leaned down, kissing him until she could feel him kissing her back. “Let’s go back to sleep now, okay?” she asked as soon as she’d pulled away.

 

Derek nodded and pulled her down, wrapping an arm around her. “Okay.” he said, and then, much quieter: “Thank you, Skye.”

 

She didn’t say anything but only smiled, and within a few minutes she was fast asleep again.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek woke up to the smell of gunpowder and an array of weapons spread across the mattress where Skye had previously lain. She was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, sorting through a black bag filled with ammunition, an impossibly large gun resting on her thigh.

 

“You scare me sometimes, you know.” he said with a smile, rolling onto his side so he was facing her. She looked up from her work and grinned. “I imagine that’s because of my imposing physique.”

 

In spite of the nightmare still lingering in the back of his mind, Derek chuckled. Physically, Skye was anything but imposing, but even at their first meeting he had sensed something more about her, something that told him she was much more dangerous that she seemed. Honestly, he wouldn’t want her as his enemy, because he was sure that every last one of the weapons spread across the bed would be absolutely deadly in her hands.

 

He sat up, gesturing towards the mass of guns, knives and other weapons he didn’t even have a name for. “What are all those for?” he asked. “You can’t possibly need them all for yourself.”

 

A smirk danced across her face. “You’d be surprised.” She put the last box of ammunition back into the bag, closed it and then said: “But you’re right, they aren’t all for me. You’ve got plenty of human pack members. I thought they might need some protection as well.” Derek had the sudden vivid vision of Stiles – thin, lanky Stiles – wielding a huge machine gun. The picture seemed slightly grotesque to him, but also extremely horrifying.

 

He was drawn out of his dreadful thoughts by Skye leaning over the weapons in front of her and kissing him gently. “Let’s get ready.” she said quietly. “We have to make sure everyone’s prepared. This is going to be one hell of a fight.”

 

Yes, Derek thought. Yes, it definitely is.

 

* * *

 

 

Leon Santos did not like being a Guardian.

 

He had not chosen this kind of life for himself. His father had been one, his mother and two little sisters killed in an attack by the Gifted, and so Leon had never really had a choice. Refusing to join would’ve been a crime similar to treason and after all he’d seen, Leon was sure he would have been executed for it, even though most Guardians claimed they only killed gifted people.

 

Victor Ford, of course, wasn’t like most Guardians.

 

When Leon had been younger, the stories about Victor Ford, their glorious and brilliant leader, had always seemed to him like nothing more than just that – stories. He hadn’t ever imagined that he would one day meet the man, much less work directly for him. But he knew all too well that life had a way of taking the most unexpected turns, and so here he was – working for the man who hated the Gifted most of all while simultaneously knowing fully well that what they were doing was completely wrong.

 

It weren’t his mere skills as a fighter that had gotten Leon into Ford’s elite team of Guardians (or what was left of them). It was what had happened to him a little over three years ago.

 

Leon did not hate the woman who had attacked the base he had been stationed at that day. Most people thought he did, seeing as she had killed everyone else there and wounded him, but he didn’t. He couldn’t even really explain why.

 

She had spared his life, sure, but that wasn’t everything. There had been something in her eyes when she had looked at him, a deep-rooted pain that had made it impossible for him to see her as a monster. She was only a girl, a girl whose whole family had been blown to pieces just because they existed.

 

That was when he had realized all the supposedly fundamental truths he had been raised with were simply lies. The Gifted weren’t the monsters. They weren’t the ones who had started this war. Honestly, Leon couldn’t even think of many casualties on the Guardians’ side, not until Skye had started her vendetta. The Gifted had pretty much always just defended themselves, and who could blame them for that?

 

The Guardians were the real monsters. They were the ones slaughtering whole families including babies and children; they were the ones killing for the sake of killing.

 

Still, Leon stayed. Because he hoped that one day, when Ford would find Skye – which he undoubtedly would eventually – he would be there to repay the favor and save her life.


	33. Thirty-Two

****

When Skye’s old Dodge came to life with a pathetic little stutter, Derek painfully missed his own car.

 

He had taken the wheel against her protest – he liked the feeling of being able to floor the gas and simply drive away from everything that haunted him – but now he realized that driving the Dodge would feel nothing like speeding down the highways in his Camaro.

 

“You need to get a new car.” he announced and Skye shot him a sharp glance. “Don’t insult Chuck.” she said. “I’ve had him for years and he never failed me.”

 

Derek snorted in amusement. “Your car is named Chuck?” Skye gave him a grin. “Don’t judge. Drive.”

 

“Bossy.” he murmured under his breath, but he did what he was told and pulled out of the driveway of her apartment building.

 

They had agreed to meet at his loft, seeing as it provided much more room and privacy than the animal clinic, and Derek would’ve had to go home anyway. He’d spent the last two nights after his escape at Skye’s, and he desperately needed a change of clothes. Frankly though, he preferred her place, because there were no haunting memories tied to it.

 

The drive didn’t take long so neither of them talked much – Skye was softly singing along to a song on the radio and he was content just listening to her – and they were the first to pull up in front of the building, none of the other pack members having arrived yet. Not that Derek had expected them too – the sky was still pale and a quick glance at his phone told him that it was not even half past eight.

 

They made their way up the stairs, the guns in Skye’s bag giving clinking sounds of metal with each step, and they were at the bottom of the last flight of stairs when Derek heard it. A heartbeat behind the closed doors to his loft, almost taunting in its steadiness.

 

He grabbed Skye’s arm and abruptly held her back. She made a small sound of surprise but immediately stilled when his lips silently formed the words “someone’s there”, hand reaching behind her where she had undoubtedly tucked her gun into her waistband against her spine.

 

Derek cocked his head, positioning himself between Skye and the door out of pure instinct, and listened intently. The heartbeat seemed familiar, and when he took a deep breath, filling his nose with the smell of his visitor, he knew who it was even before the man on the other side of the door spoke.

 

“Aren’t you going to come in, Derek? I can hear you lingering out there.”

 

He couldn’t suppress a low growl, more irritation and annoyance than anger, and Skye looked at him questioningly. “Who is it?” she asked quietly, her right palm still glowing with the faintest hint of blue.

 

Derek snorted. “No one to be afraid of. He’s a bit pathetic, really.”

 

Skye appeared even more confused but she still followed him inside, where his visitor sat perched on the sofa as if the whole place belonged to him.

 

“That really hurt, Derek.” Peter said, clutching his heart theatrically. “Calling your own uncle pathetic – I thought Talia taught you some manners.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes. “What are you doing here, Peter?” he asked.

 

His uncle did not have the chance to reply. Before he could say anything, Skye had dropped her bag to the floor with a loud clang and had crossed the room with a few wide steps. Her fist hit Peter right in the face, followed by the sound of a breaking bone and the metallic smell of blood filling the air.

 

For a moment, nobody seemed to move or even breathe. It was a bizarre picture – Skye standing in front of Peter, not much taller than him even though he was sitting down, blood streaming down his face, her hand perfectly relaxed as if she had never punched him. Then Peter grabbed his bloody nose and looked at her with a mixture of shock and anger.

 

“You broke my nose!” he exclaimed.

 

Skye’s voice was full of contempt when she answered. “And I’d break a few more bones too if I had the time. But apparently today’s your lucky day, asshole.”

 

Peter turned to Derek, his eyes wide. He looked a bit like a fish gasping for air, helplessly trying to understand what had just happened. “She broke my nose!” he repeated.

 

Derek couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.

 

For the first time in maybe months, he laughed and laughed and couldn’t stop. Skye was chuckling now too while Peter still looked completely flabbergasted, as if he was too surprised to even be really angry. The picture was almost surreal, and somehow that made Derek laugh even harder.

 

“What the hell?” Peter asked as soon as his laughter had died down, having stood up from the couch and now standing in the middle of the room like he didn’t really know what to do.

 

Derek shrugged, a smirk still lingering on his lips. “Well, you can’t say you didn’t deserve it.”

 

His uncle snarled and turned his gaze back to Skye. “Who the fuck are you anyway?” he asked.

 

Skye grinned. “Oh, I’m just a girl who thinks you deserve a punch in the face. And from what Derek told me, I guess I’m not the only one.”

 

Peter scoffed. “He’s screwing you, isn’t he?” he asked, gesturing towards Derek while shooting him a short cold look. “He’s always had… questionable taste in women. You seem like you’re no exception.”

 

It wasn’t like his uncle was wrong – Kate and Jennifer were the perfect examples for his shitty luck with women – but Derek felt an almost unreasonable anger building up inside of him at the thought of Skye being compared with the two. He actually had to suppress the urge to punch Peter in the face himself.

 

Nevertheless, his voice was surprisingly cool and calm as he said: “That’s none of your business, Peter. Now, if you have nothing important to tell me, get out of my apartment.”

 

Again, his uncle scoffed. “Very well. I was going to tell you about the witch infestation we seem to have here in Beacon Hills, but judging from her presence here, I assume you already know about that. Good luck, Derek.” And with that, he was out of the door, leaving them both behind with shocked expressions on their faces.

 

“How the hell does he know about me and Raina?” Skye asked as soon as she’d gained her composure.

 

Derek shrugged and gave an exasperated sigh. “I have no idea. Honestly, he’s probably just pretending to know more than he actually does. That’s the way Peter does things.” A small grin danced across his lips. “I have to say though, seeing you break his nose made me like you even more.”

 

She chuckled. “Is that so?”

 

With a few steps, she crossed the distance between them and kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck while he instinctively pulled her closer at the waist. Once again, the feeling of her lips on his made him almost forget about all the shit that was going on in his life right now, and he wished that he could just keep kissing her forever.

 

When Skye pulled away, he was still aching for more and had to fight the urge to silence her with another kiss when she said quietly: “We should probably not get into this. The others will arrive any moment.”

 

Derek gave a deep sigh and stole another quick kiss from her before he finally pulled away completely. “You’re right.” he said. “Though I think I’d like getting into this with you better than a pack meeting.”

 

She smiled. “So do I. But we have to come up with some kind of plan. Otherwise the Scavengers will take us completely by surprise, and I don’t like to be surprised.”

 

In the blink of an eye, Derek felt the brief rush of happiness inside of him being replaced by that sinking feeling he was all too familiar with again. It had probably been too much to hope for, to get a few moments of absolute peace in the midst of this mess. His life was too much of a shit-show for that.


	34. Thirty-Three

****

Aiden had a bad feeling about this.

 

Sure, he – along with Ethan – had been the one to offer Scott their help, but this offer was not what he was having second thoughts about. It was going back to Derek’s loft with Derek there that he deemed one of the worst ideas they had ever had.

 

He knew that the former Alpha hated him – and with good reasons; after all, Aiden was disgusted by himself most of them time when he thought back to all the horrible things he’d done for Deucalion. What he feared was that going back to the place where he and Ethan had forced Derek to kill Boyd with his own hands would cause him to unload all his anger and hate at once – and if that happened, Aiden wouldn’t even be able to blame him.

 

He was almost certain that confronting Derek back where they had done their probably worst act of cruelty against him would result in a fight, and that it would be messy and would not at all bring them any closer to coming up with a plan to fight against the mysterious group Scott had only vaguely told him about.

 

Still, he wasn’t about to take his offer back. He didn’t want to take his offer back. He wanted to help Scott and his pack, wanted to somehow make up for all the bad things he had done before and, maybe most of all, wanted to prove to Lydia that he was truly one of the good guys.

 

This was his chance. And he wasn’t about to ruin it.

 

When Ethan and him parked their bikes in front of the building Derek lived in, Scott was already there, leaning against Stiles’ crappy old jeep, accompanied by almost his whole pack except Derek – of whom, frankly, Aiden wasn’t even sure if he was part of Scott’s pack.

 

“You came.” the Alpha said with a brief nod and both twins only nodded back before following Scott inside. Aiden didn’t miss the looks Stiles and Isaac shot them – the former full of distrust, the latter full of hate.

 

“Skye will give you some details of what we’re up against.” Scott told them on the way up. “She’s the one of us who knows most about the Scavengers, so she can probably tell you more than I can. I assume she’s already here.”

 

Aiden didn’t ask who this Skye was, even though he had never heard the name. Maybe she was a friend of Derek’s – in which case this little reunion might be about to get a lot uglier. He exchanged a quick gaze with his brother, whose expression showed that he was thinking exactly the same, before Scott pulled open the door to the loft and they entered.

 

Derek was standing in front of a table next to a petite, dark-haired woman, a steaming cup in his hand. He turned around when he heard them enter, and immediately Aiden saw a number of different emotions flash across his face. Guilt, anger, pain, regret, hate.

 

The cup hit the ground and shattered, splashing coffee everywhere and making them all flinch.

 

“What are they doing here, Scott?” Derek asked, his voice full of barely contained anger.

 

Aiden noticed that the woman next to him – Skye, presumably – seemed completely alert, eyes darting between them and Derek and arms in a position that appeared relaxed but which he knew meant she was ready to fight at any moment. She was human – at least that was what his senses told him – but somehow he was sure that she could take on him if she wanted to.

 

Scott raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “They offered their help, Derek.” he said. “And I know you don’t trust them – hell, neither do I – but we need fighters. And they’re good fighters. Great fighters.”

 

Derek growled. “Don’t trust them?” he spit out. “They killed Boyd and Erica. They’ll kill us without hesitation if we give them a chance.” His gaze shifted back do Aiden and Ethan. “Get out of here.” he said dangerously quiet, taking a step towards them. “Before I have to make you.”

 

Aiden could tell that his brother was about to say something, but before he got the chance, Skye gently put her hand on Derek’s arm, holding him back. “Derek, wait.” she said, so quietly Aiden could barely hear her. He had to focus his senses to hear her next words.

 

“Scott has a point. We need fighters. Going up against the best Raina could find is already a suicide mission. We can at least improve our chances.”

 

Derek turned so he was facing her, and Aiden could hear the shock and betrayal in his voice as he answered. “So you agree with this? You think we should just welcome them on our team like nothing ever happened?”

 

“All I’m saying is that I think they will be useful.”

 

He scoffed and his next words were so filled with anger that Aiden at first thought they were directed at him. “Then maybe we should also ask Victor Ford for help while we’re at it. I’m sure he’ll be useful too.”

 

Aiden immediately realized that whoever this Victor Ford was, Derek had hurt Skye tremendously by mentioning him. She flinched back as if he’d punched her, her eyes wide like she couldn’t quite believe what he had just said. The regret already setting in in Derek’s eyes was so obvious that even Aiden, who usually wasn’t too great at reading emotions, could see it.

 

“Skye, I…” he started to say, all the anger suddenly gone from his voice, but she cut him off, her voice sharp as a knife. “Save it, Derek. Do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care.” And then she turned away, her face an ice-cold mask, leaving no doubt that she didn’t want to talk to Derek anymore.

 

An awkward silence filled the room as everyone uncomfortably eyed Derek and Skye, unsure what to say or do now. It was Derek himself who broke the silence, only the barest hint of anger left in his eyes now. It was mostly guilt that Aiden saw now, especially in the gazes he saw him shooting Skye every few seconds.

 

“Fine.” he said. “You can stay. For now.”

 

“Thank you.” Ethan said quietly and then he added even quieter: “And we’re sorry.” Aiden simply nodded. He had nothing to add to what his brother had said. He was thankful for the chance to redeem himself, and he was sorry for what they’d done.

 

Derek didn’t say anything, just turned his gaze away from them, and Scott cleared his throat. “Okay.” he said. “Let’s do what we came here to do. Skye, can you give Aiden and Ethan the detail of what we’re up against?”

 

Skye shrugged, her face still an ice-cold mask. “It’s not like I know too many details myself, but I can tell you what I know.” She turned towards Aiden and his brother. “Have you two ever heard of gifted people?”

 

Aiden raised one eyebrow. He remembered stories Deucalion had told them about mysteriously powered people, about whole families in which everyone had some kind of superpower. Part of him had always thought that they had been just that – stories – but apparently they hadn’t. He wondered if that was what Skye really was – one of those gifted people.

 

“Vaguely, yes.” he replied.

 

“Then that’s about all you need to know.” Skye said dryly. “I’m one of them, so is the leader of the group that’s threatening us. Her name is Raina Blackwood and her power is will control. One touch and you’ll do whatever she tells you to. So basically we’re up against a perfectly loyal army and a leader who can turn every one of you except me into one of her soldiers. Are you still in?”

 

Aiden swallowed and exchanged a gaze with his brother. Sure, Ethan didn’t have the same additional motivation he did – getting Lydia back – but he still immediately knew what his answer would be.

 

He turned back to Skye. “Yes.” he said. “We’re in.”


	35. Thirty-Four

"So, what do we do to lead them where we want to have them? We can’t let them just take us by surprise whenever they feel up to it.”

 

Stiles was the first one to state the obvious question that Scott had been thinking about all night. It was clear to all of them that the Scavengers were already in town – had been at least since Derek had been taken – so why hadn’t they attacked yet? The smartest move for them would be to take on each of the members separately instead of giving them time to come up with defense strategy, so what were they waiting for?

 

“We need to stay together.” he said. “Otherwise we’ll give them every chance to take us down one by one. They could attack any moment. I don’t know why they haven’t already.”

 

Lydia, who had been silent up until now, shook her head. “I don’t think they’ll attack until tomorrow night.”

 

The moment she said it, everything became clear to Scott. Tomorrow night would be a full moon, so this was probably what they were waiting for. The power of at least the werewolf members of the pack would be at its peak then.

 

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Isaac threw in. “We will be stronger then too. Why would they wait and give us time to prepare?”

 

Scott had to admit that Isaac was right – the Scavengers’ advantage wouldn’t be so great as to explain why they were waiting. It was Skye who gave them an answer, her face still cold and devoid of emotion. Scott noticed that she was purposely not looking at Derek as she said: “They probably know you’ve got plenty of pack members who won’t be affected by the full moon. And for the others… well, if Raina manages to turn you, that means she has stronger fighters on her side.”

 

A dreadful, almost oppressing silence filled the room and not for the first time since Skye had told them what exactly Raina could do, Scott was on the brink of desperation. How could they hope to win against someone who could make them turn on their own with one touch?

 

Even if they managed to hold their own against Raina’s warriors – which, frankly, seemed highly unlikely; according to Skye, only the best of the best were recruited into the Scavengers – they still could not win. Their only chance was to stall the fighters long enough for Skye to take care of Raina.

 

Scott was sure that Skye was probably a better fighter than all of them, though he hadn’t seen her fight yet, but the fact that she didn’t appear overly confident that she could beat Raina made his insides curl with fear. This was worse than anything else they had ever faced before, and suddenly he found himself wishing for Deucalion and his Alpha pack. They, at least, had been an enemy that didn’t possess the eerie power to turn them into obedient puppets.

 

“That means our best chance is sticking together tomorrow.” Stiles concluded, a hint of hope on his face that Scott couldn’t really understand. “If we’re all in one place, they’ll have to come to us. We can decide where we want this fight to go down.”

 

“Well, where do we want this fight to go down?” Isaac asked.

 

Again, it was Skye who answered, and even though she wasn’t part of the pack and he should probably not like her taking the wheel, Scott was mostly relieved that at least one of them seemed to know what they were doing.

 

“Preferably a building, something with only one entrance. That way we’ll only have to fight them on one front. They outnumber us, so otherwise they can just surround us and attack from all the sides. Also, we should probably look for something with higher ground where we can place a sniper.”

 

Scott’s eyes widened. “A sniper?” he asked incredulously.

 

“Yes.” Skye said. “I’d do it, but I’ll need to be on the ground to keep an eye out for Raina. But I hear you are quite the shot.” She turned to Allison at her last words, who seemed slightly taken aback – understandably so. Skye’s approach to the impending fight was completely unlike their usual way of doing things, cold and tactical and methodical. It was clear that this wasn’t the first time she had strategically planned an attack.

 

Allison nodded slowly. “I am.” she said. “But I don’t usually use a rifle. I prefer crossbows.”

 

Skye shrugged. “Whatever you like. You’ll probably only get off about two or three shots before they come for you, but that’s two opponents less for the rest. But they’ll have to be kill shots. You hurt them, you’ll only make them angrier.”

 

Again, Allison only gave a nod, her face an unmoving mask, and suddenly Scott noticed that the two women weren’t all that different. They were both better at this than the rest of them, with the exception maybe of Aiden and Ethan, and no wonder – Allison had been raised into a hunter’s life, after all, consciously or not, and he had a feeling that Skye had also been trained all her life.

 

“So Allison takes out two of them outside.” Scott said, trying to sound calm and collected. “We wait for the rest inside and when Raina shows up…”

 

“I’ll take care of her.” Skye interrupted him. “I’m the only one who can. And if we’re lucky, every remnant of Raina’s power will vanish as soon as she’s dead. The others will probably stop fighting.”

 

Scott didn’t miss the hint of regret in her voice as she spoke of killing Raina, and he wondered where it was coming from. He didn’t think that it was the idea of killing someone in general – in fact, he was pretty sure that this wouldn’t be Skye’s first kill – so maybe it was the thought of killing someone like her.

 

Stiles’ voice interrupted his thoughts. “What about one of the abandoned warehouses just out of town?” he asked. “Allison can go on the roof, we can block the second entrance and we’re also far enough away that no one will hear the fight and call the police or animal control on us.”

 

It was a good idea, and when no one said anything to object, Scott nodded.

 

His best friend took a deep breath, relief obvious in his face. “So, we have a plan.” he said.

 

Again, Scott nodded and gave a weak smile. “Yeah. We have a plan.”

 

* * *

 

 

The man stood in front of giant screen on an otherwise bare wall, twirling an old Smith & Wesson revolver around his finger.

 

There was a manic glint in his eyes as he stared at the grainy surveillance picture on the screen, a cruel grin tugging on the corner of his mouth. “Ah, my dear, I’ve waited so long for this.” he murmured. “Finally we will meet. Finally I will finish what I started all those years ago.”

 

He reached out and touched the woman’s face on the screen. “And to think you have no idea we’re coming! We’re going to take you completely by surprise. You won’t even know what hit you. Just like all our men you slaughtered in cold blood.”

 

He stopped twirling the revolver and pulled a handful of bullets out of the pocket of his suit jacket, carefully loading the chambers. Six bullets, but he would only need one. He had dreamed about killing the Abernathy girl for so long, he could play the scene out like a movie in his head. First, he would torture her, would make her pay for everything she had cost the Guardians, and then, when she was already begging for mercy, he would execute her with a single bullet to the head.

 

Smiling, he put the revolver in its holster and looked up to the screen once again.

 

“I’m coming, Skye.” Victor Ford said before he turned around and left the room.


	36. Thirty-Five

Skye felt like she hadn’t slept in days.

 

Which didn’t make much sense, considering last night had been one of the very few good night’s sleeps she’d had in a while. Honestly, she wasn’t so much tired as drained, exhausted from worrying and worn from all the shit going down in her life.

 

All she wanted was to sink into Derek’s arms and kiss him until he was the only thought on her mind, but she couldn’t even look at him without hearing him say it again, his voice spiked with venom. _Maybe we should also ask Victor Ford for help._

Something inside of her ached every time she replayed the scene in her head. She still couldn’t believe Derek would say something like that, couldn’t believe he would use something she had trusted him with and twist it too hurt her. She couldn’t even find it in herself to really be angry at him, though she wanted to – she wanted to kick him and punch him and scream at him. All she felt was hurt and disappointment.

 

The pack members were slowly trickling out of the loft and Skye knew that she should leave too, that she shouldn’t wait around and let Derek talk to her because that would only make her feel worse, but still she eventually found herself alone with him, the door sliding shut behind Scott and Stiles.

 

“Skye…” Derek started as soon as they were alone, but she cut him off with one gesture.

 

“No, Derek.” she said, her voice thick with tears. “Don’t even start. How could you say that? I told you something about me that I haven’t told anyone. I trusted you, and you used that trust to hurt me – just because you were angry at Aiden and Ethan. What would you feel like if I had brought up Kate? I’m sorry won’t really cut it.” Her voice cracked towards the end and she turned because looking at him made her want to burst into tears.

 

“I am though.” he said so quietly she could barely hear him. “I’m incredibly sorry. I should never have brought Ford up. That was unfair and cruel and I wish I could take it back. I’m sorry, Skye. I really am.”

 

She bit her lip, trying desperately to keep the tears from flowing. “I’m going to go home.” she whispered, still without looking at him.

 

“Please, don’t.” He sounded completely unlike himself and when she gave him a quick gaze, she almost caved. His eyes were dark with guilt and regret, and she could also see the very real fear that she would leave on his face. “Stay, Skye.” he begged. “Please don’t walk out on me now.”

 

She squared her shoulders, doing everything she could to keep his pleas from getting to her. She couldn’t stay, not when even just looking at Derek made her insides clench with pain. “I’m not walking out.” she said quietly. “I just need to be alone right now. I can’t… I can’t stay.”

 

For a few seconds, they just stood there like this, neither of them looking at each other, then Derek said once again: “I’m so sorry.”

 

Skye swallowed. “I know.” she murmured. “That doesn’t make it hurt less though.”

 

And then, before she could change her mind, she turned around and stepped out of the loft, pulling the door shut behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

“Lydia, wait!”

 

Lydia didn’t need to turn around to know who had called her. She had felt Aiden’s gaze on her from the time he’d entered the loft, and she knew him well enough to be able to tell from the look on his face that he’d been meaning to talk to her. Oddly, this didn’t annoy or anger her like it usually did. Part of her even looked forward to talking to him.

 

Still, she feigned annoyance as she turned around. “What do you want, Aiden?”

 

He smiled and something inside of her fluttered. It took all of her self-control to appear completely unfazed by his smile on the outside when he said: “What I always want – talk to you. Are you going to tell me to get lost again?”

 

Just a few days ago, she would’ve done exactly that, but now she couldn’t. Not when Aiden and his brother had just promised to lay their lives on the line to protect the pack, not when it suddenly looked like he had something good inside of him after all, not when he was smiling at her like that. Instead she said: “That depends on what you have to say.”

 

Aiden’s gaze flickered towards Ethan and Allison, who were both still lingering as if they couldn’t quite decide whether they could leave them alone, and he gave his brother a short nod before asking: “Can we talk alone?”

 

Lydia raised one eyebrow. “Are you going to abduct me if I say no?” she asked dryly, but before Aiden could answer, she already gave Allison a sign that it was okay to leave. In spite of everything, she knew Aiden wouldn’t hurt her and she really needed to talk to him, if only to sort through her complicated feelings for him.

 

Her best friend shot her a glance that clearly meant “be careful” before getting into her car and driving off, followed by Ethan on his motorcycle. Lydia took a deep breath. They were alone. For the first time since Aiden had killed Boyd, they were really alone.

 

She crossed her hands in front of her chest, trying to create a physical barrier between them, because she could feel the emotional one she had spent so long building slowly crumbling.

 

“Well,” Aiden said, looking more nervous than she had ever seen him, “I guess what I wanted to say is that I’m sorry. For everything. I’ve done a lot of things that I’m not proud of and I’ve made a lot of shitty decisions and I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I know that what I did fucked up everything we could’ve had and I’m not asking you for forgiveness, but I need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”

 

Lydia stood there flabbergasted. She had expected him to say something along the lines of “see, I’m not so bad after all, now let’s make out”, had expected him to make excuses for what he’d done, but not something like this. Not an apology, not something so… sincere.

 

Her voice was much softer than he had intended it to be when she said: “I think I’m not the only one you need to apologize to.”

 

Aiden nodded. “I know. And I’m trying. I’m trying to make up for what I’ve done. Ethan and I both are.”

 

For a while, neither of them said anything. Then Lydia said very quietly: “You’re not making any excuses for what you have done.”

 

It wasn’t really a question, and Aiden shot her a strange look before saying: “I wanted to, in the beginning. But then I realized that there weren’t any. Sure, Deucalion gave us power and the only family we ever had, but we went too far. We – I should never have killed innocent people for him. It doesn’t matter what he did or didn’t do for us. I shouldn’t have killed innocent people for anyone.”

 

Lydia bit her lip. She couldn’t believe that this was still the same Aiden standing in front of her, the ruthless, cold Aiden who would do anything for Deucalion and even more to get what he wanted – the Aiden who was so clearly one of the bad guys. This Aiden in front of her was someone else, someone who regretted his mistakes and wanted to learn from them, someone who apologized and made amends and could maybe, one day, be considered good.

 

She wanted to kiss him. But there was still a small of part keeping her where she was, a small part that still doubted him. Did he really mean what he was saying or had he just made it all up to get her back? Had he really changed or was he still manipulating her while pretending to be a different person? (But then again, the regret in his eyes looked so real and he had said that he wasn’t asking for her forgiveness. Why did her life have to be so goddamned complicated?)

 

There was really only one way to find out. She would have to wait for the fight against the Scavengers so she could see if Aiden was telling the truth – if he really wanted to help them, if he was really trying to make up for everything he’d done.

 

“I have to go, Aiden.” she said. Her voice, that stupid, treacherous thing, was trembling. “Thank you for telling me all this, but I need time to think about it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

She didn’t look back at him as she turned, got into her car and drove away. She thought that if she saw the look on his face, she might change her mind.


	37. Thirty-Six

Skye didn’t sleep that night.

 

Instead, she lay awake for hours, feeling terribly alone and empty. The bed felt too big without Derek’s warm body next to her, without his reassuring presence and the calming sound of his breathing, but also too small as his scent was still lingering in the pillows where he had slept the night before, filling out the room and almost suffocating Skye with its intensity.

 

At last, just short of five o’clock, she gave up trying to sleep entirely and instead downed two cups of pitch-black coffee before starting to clean and double-check all of her weapons, something she always did when she was restless. It was repetitive and dull but it kept her busy and that was all she wanted, because otherwise she was sure she would go mad.

 

By the time there was nothing left to possibly be done, it was only half past eight and Skye was itching to shoot something. Not necessarily to wound or even kill, just to feel the satisfying power of the shot echo through her body as the bullet left the gun. She had half made up her mind to go to the forest and just randomly shoot at trees when someone knocked on her door.

 

Skye instinctively let a few sparkles flare up between her fingers before heading toward the door and taking a look through the peephole. She breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw a familiar lanky kid, accompanied by an also familiar redhead, standing outside the door. She wasn’t sure if she could’ve handled a visit by Derek right now.

 

As soon as she opened the door, Stiles raised one eyebrow. “Woah, you look like shit.” he said instead of a greeting.

 

Skye couldn’t find it in herself to be offended. “I feel like it too.” she only said dryly before opening the door completely. “Come in.”

 

Stiles marched in as if he had been in her apartment in dozen times, followed by Lydia, who looked rather uncomfortable. Skye didn’t bother asking how they had found out where she lived. She had the impression that Stiles was pretty resourceful, and having a sheriff for a father probably came in handy as well.

 

“What can I do for you?” she asked as soon as she had led them into the sparsely furnished living room.

 

To her surprise, it was Lydia who answered. “We – well, I actually need to tell you something.”

 

Skye raised one eyebrow. She had a bad feeling about this. When a banshee announced that she needed to tell you something with that kind of look on her face, it couldn’t be good news. Honestly though, she couldn’t think of a lot that would be worse than what she was already facing.

 

Lydia cleared her throat. “When I had the vision about the Scavengers coming here, I saw something else too. I saw you.”

 

Skye suddenly felt numb. She knew where this was going, she knew it without a doubt – banshees weren’t called messengers of death for no reason – but still she forced herself to smile and ask sarcastically: “What did I do, totally save the day? Because that would be the kind of prediction I could really use right now.”

 

The redhead slowly shook her head. There was sincere sympathy in her eyes and also a hint of frustration when she said quietly: “No. You died.”

 

Her chest felt too tight and she had to fight for breath. Of course, she had known perfectly well what Lydia was going to say next, but hearing it said out loud suddenly made it frighteningly real. A banshee had seen her die. Skye hadn’t had a lot to do with banshees so far, but the few she’d had contact with because of their ties to the Gifted had never been wrong in their predictions.

 

She felt weirdly detached from what was happening around her when she said: “Well, that certainly complicates things. Did you see how it will happen?”

 

Lydia seemed completely taken aback by her reaction. She had probably expected her to cry, to freak out and frantically try to find a way to avoid her fate, and part of Skye wanted to do exactly that, but she wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ – panic now. It wouldn’t do her or the pack any good. She could feel Stiles’ eyes on her as she looked at Lydia expectantly, but she avoided looking at him. She was afraid that the worry in his eyes might shatter her already fragile composure.

 

The banshee shook her head again. “No. I saw your face and then I just knew you were going to die. It’s hard to explain.”

 

“There has to be something we can do!” Stiles chimed in before Skye had the chance to reply. “We can’t just wait what’s going to happen. Just because you saw it doesn’t mean it has to happen. We can still change it.”

 

Skye felt a sharp twang of pain at Stiles’ determination to find a way to save her life. It took all her self-control to focus on breathing and keep calm, to remain in the state where this all seemed like a dream, like it was happening to someone else. She gave a dry, joyless chuckle.

 

“Predicting death is usually the one thing banshees are exceptionally good at, Stiles.” she said. “I’m afraid the only thing I can do is to try my hardest not to get myself killed. I’ve been pretty good at that so far, so maybe we don’t have to worry.” She didn’t believe her own words for a second.

 

Stiles looked as if he didn’t believe her either when he said: “But…” Skye interrupted him, forcing herself to give him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “There is no but, Stiles. We don’t have a choice. I can’t sit this fight out, because I’m the only one who can face Raina. I’ll be fine.”

 

For a few moments, Stiles stared at her defiantly, then the look on his face turned resigned. “Alright, I guess.” he murmured. “We just… thought you should know.” Lydia added, her eyes filled with a mess of emotions Skye couldn’t quite read.

 

Skye almost scoffed. What good did knowing about her impending death do her? How did it make anything better that she now had hours to wonder how she would die? But of course, they had only meant to do the right thing, and so she pushed her frustration down and gave them another forced smile.

 

“I’ll see you in the evening in the warehouse then.” she said, her stomach filling with dread when she thought of it. “Be safe.”

 

It was an obvious signal for them to leave, and Lydia turned towards the door immediately, but Stiles lingered for a while. He gave her a strange look and she had the feeling he was going to say something. When he did, his question took her completely by surprise. “Will you tell Derek?”

 

Skye’s breath caught in her throat. She clenched her fists so tight she could feel her nail digging into her palms, and the pain helped her to stay calm. Would she tell Derek? It was probably best if she didn’t. There was nothing he could do to change it, and she didn’t want to put him through those extra hours of agony. Besides, they weren’t exactly on the best terms right now.

 

“No.” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t either.”

 

Stiles sighed. “You know, I’m pretty sure he’s head over heels in love with you.” he said. “He deserves to know.” And then, before she even had a chance to answer, he was gone and the apartment door fell shut behind him.

 

Skye felt like she was going to throw up. Her chest was too tight, making gasp for air desperately, and her heart was beating so loud she could practically hear it. She knew what was happening. She was having a panic attack – she’d had quite a few after her family had died – but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

 

When she pressed her eyes shut, she could see Derek’s face like it was burned into the insides of her eyelids. She remembered the pain on his face when he had told her about Paige and Kate and Jennifer and suddenly she realized that she would become another name on that list. She would break his heart once again and there was nothing she could do about it.

 

Skye wanted to cry but the tears wouldn’t come. Instead, she sat crouched on the floor of her living room gasping for air, knowing that her breaths were numbered.


	38. Thirty-Seven

The warehouse looked completely ordinary – not like a huge, life-changing and possibly life-ending fight was about to go down inside.

 

Of course, Stiles hadn’t expected it to look anything but ordinary, but it still felt somewhat grotesque to him that the question of their survival would be decided in an abandoned warehouse that didn’t even stand out from the other ones around it. When he looked at Scott next to him, he saw the same weirdly distant fear he was feeling on his best friend’s face. This whole thing seemed unreal.

 

Isaac, on the other hand, looked like he was barely keeping it together when he emerged from the jeep. Stiles tried his best to give his reassuring smile but he was pretty sure he failed miserably.

 

The girls arrived just a few minutes after them. Allison looked fierce, with her crossbow slung across her shoulder and a determined look on her face, while Lydia was utterly unreadable.

 

After their earlier visit at Skye’s, she had seemed troubled, almost desperate, but she had refused to talk to him and frankly, he hadn’t felt much like talking either, not after Skye’s reaction. She had pretended to be completely unruffled by the fact that a banshee had predicted her death, but Stiles could read people well enough to be at least ninety percent sure that it had been an act. And accepting that she was right, that there was nothing they could do about it – well, that wasn’t something he was particularly good at.

 

Even though he’d only known her for a few days, he didn’t want to just give up and risk her death, and he also couldn’t deny that he was worried about what it would do to Derek if Lydia’s prediction came true. He’d have to be blind to not notice how much the former Alpha cared about Skye, and Lord knew Derek had lost enough people he cared about. Stiles had seen the look on his face when Boyd had died, and he feared that Skye’s death would break him once and for all.

 

His troubling thoughts were interrupted by the twins’ arrival. They parked their fancy motorcycles next to the jeep and walked up to them. Neither of them looked too worried, but Stiles wasn’t sure if they were really that confident or if it was just a well-studied act.

 

“Well” Aiden said sarcastically “this sure looks like a party.” Neither of them answered. They were all way to tense for joking.

 

“Should we go inside or wait for Derek and Skye?” Isaac asked nervously.

 

Before Scott could answer, an unmistakable black Camaro pulled up in front of the warehouse and Derek emerged. His jaw was clenched and he looked like he hadn’t slept all night, but from the lack of pain or desperation in his eyes Stiles concluded that Skye really hadn’t told him. His even under the circumstances exceptionally bad mood probably still resulted from the fall-out with Skye they had witnessed yesterday when he had mentioned that Ford guy. Well, she had seemed very pissed.

 

His gaze darted quickly across all of them and Stiles was pretty sure he knew who Derek was looking for, because disappointment briefly appeared on his face before he gave them a slight nod and silently stepped up to them.

 

There was no time for much talking because only a few moments later an old, run-down Dodge parked next to Derek’s Camaro and Skye got out. Holy shit, had he said that Allison looked fierce? Skye looked absolutely terrifying.

 

She was dressed completely in black, with heavy combat boots and a holster containing two guns across her chest. There were various knifes strapped to her thighs, spare magazines to her belt and something that looked like two steel batons to her back, and her face was a cold, unmoving mask. She looked like she was absolutely ready to mercilessly slaughter anyone that got in her way, and for a moment Stiles felt strangely reassured.

 

Skye didn’t even so much as look at Derek when she walked over to them, so their fight had probably been even worse than it had seemed yesterday.

 

Now that Stiles thought about it, what Lydia and him had told her this morning was probably also a big reason she was so cold and reserved. That would likely be his strategy of dealing with that kind of news too – try to pretend to be totally unaffected, and also try to keep people her cared about as far away as possible in hopes of not hurting them any further.

 

Scott interrupted his thoughts. “Okay then. Let’s set up. We still need to find a way to block the second entrance and we have to find Allison a good spot. We don’t have any time to lose.”

 

Wordlessly, they got to work.

 

* * *

 

 

The Captain parked the dark SUV a few blocks away from the warehouse the McCall pack had holed up in and Raina emerged from the passenger seat with a smile on her face.

 

At first, she hadn’t liked the fact that they were giving the pack time to come up with a defense strategy instead of taking them out one by one, but the Captain had suggested waiting for the night of the full moon to attack and she had come to see the advantages of it.

 

The full moon would strengthen her fighters while it would make the inexperienced fighters of the McCall pack more impulsive and thus easier to beat – not that she was worried about them. One touch from her and any threat they might have posed before would become void. 

 

The only piece on the board that she couldn’t control was the Abernathy girl.

 

Raina had hoped that Victor Ford would be here by now to take care of her, but the leader of the Guardians was taking his sweet time. When she had contacted him, he had been in Asia on some business he wasn’t willing to disclose, and apparently his organization’s funds had been so diminished by Skye’s attacks that it took him a few days to move his troops back to the States.

 

As irritating as that was, there was nothing Raina could do about it. She would have to take care of Skye herself, which was why she was completely geared up, her trusted whip wrapped around her waist. 

 

Usually, Raina didn’t like to join the fights – it was much easier to just let her loyal soldiers do all the dirty work – but she wasn’t stupid enough to underestimate Skye. That girl had taken out a majority of the Guardian’s bases all on her own. There was no doubt she was a great fighter, probably matching most – if not all – of Raina’s soldiers.

 

It was a pity she could not bend her will. Skye would’ve been a valuable addition to her army.

 

Honestly, she didn’t even know why the girl was still sticking around. It would’ve been so easy for her to get out of Beacon Hills and avoid the fight altogether. She had to know that Raina wouldn’t come after her, that she had no use for her, but nevertheless she was still here, getting ready to fight alongside the pack, which could only mean one thing – she cared about them.

 

Raina scoffed. Stupid girl. Getting feelings involved was the one mistake you could never afford to make. Feelings were messy and complicated while a mission was clear and structured, and mixing the two was a recipe for disaster. Well, Raina wouldn’t complain. That would only make it easier to take Skye of the game board.

 

And of course, there was still the lesson she wanted to teach Derek Hale for what he’d done to Dmitri.

 

Eli had pulled through against all expectations and was back to fighting shape, but Raina was still furious with Hale. No one broke her soldiers and got away with it, and if there was one thing she had learnt when he had been in their custody, it was that Skye was Hale’s weak point.

 

Whatever feelings had lead Skye to stay and put her life on the line for him were mutual, and so killing her would not only rid Raina of the only opponent who could actually be a danger to her, but it would also give her the revenge she was yearning for.

 

She glanced over to where her soldiers were gathering. The Captain was going over the plan with them again and arming those who didn’t have claws and fangs of their own.

 

A content smile grazed across her face. Recruiting the Captain had been one of her best ideas in a while. Initially she had been skeptical about what a human possibly had to offer, but now she couldn’t imagine her army without him. He was a brilliant strategist and their raids went much more smoothly since he was the one planning them.

 

Raina couldn’t suppress the grin that was tugging at the corners of her mouth. The McCall pack stood absolutely no chance against them. She would get what she wanted. She always did.

 

 _I hope you’re ready to die, Skye,_ she thought.


	39. Thirty-Eight

All Skye felt was a calm, sharp focus.

 

Every hint of fear or worry she had felt before was gone, buried deep inside her mind by countless years of training for exactly this kind of scenario. Skye had been raised into a war and as much as she hated it, it was what she knew – it was what she was good at. She was a fighter, trained all her life for the exact purpose of defending those she loved.

 

In her mind, her plan was all made up, a clear line of action she would follow. Get to Raina, kill her as fast as possible and then… leave. Let the pack deal with the rest and get the hell out of Beacon Hills – of course, only in case she was still alive by the time the fight was over.

 

The last part of the plan made her heart clench with pain, even in her completely focused state, but it was the only way. She could see that now.

 

It had been foolish of her to think that if they only managed to beat the Scavengers, everything would be fine and she could be with Derek. Ford was still out there, she was still hunting him and he was still hunting her, and she had already let herself grow too attached. Leaving now would hurt like hell, but it was better than staying and waiting for the inevitable – because, Skye had realized, Ford finding her would be inevitable if she stayed.

 

He would find her and he would take a perverse pleasure in hurting those she cared about. Skye was a ticking time-bomb waiting to explode and take everyone around her down with her, and she wouldn’t let that happen. Staying for as long as she had, letting herself fall in love with Derek – that had been incredibly selfish, and Lydia’s prediction only gave her another reason to leave.

 

As long as Victor Ford was alive, there was no way for her to be with Derek – not without breaking his heart and possibly getting him killed, and that was something she would never be able to forgive herself for. Leaving would break her heart, but at least Derek would be okay.

 

There was no other way.

 

Derek had tried talking to her while they had prepared for the fight, but she had quickly busied herself with welding the second entrance shut and had shot him a look that had hopefully convinced him she was still too angry to forgive him – which she wasn’t. All her previous anger had vanished at the very real possibility that she would never see Derek again after this fight was over.

 

It seemed like Derek had bought her act, because he hadn’t tried talking to her anymore, and she had avoided looking at him. She was afraid that otherwise she might be tempted to stay.

 

Skye took a deep breath. This was not the time to think about what she would be leaving behind. This was the time to get ready to fight.

 

 _Let’s see what you got, Raina,_ she thought grimly.

 

* * *

 

 

Allison had absolutely no idea why she wasn’t scared.

 

She was about to go up against someone who would kill her without a moment of hesitation if they got their hands on her, but she wasn’t scared. A strange clarity had taken over her mind, giving her the perfect calmness she would need to fire her crossbow. Maybe, she thought, Kate had been right in at least one thing – Allison was good at this.

 

Her gaze wandered to her quiver full of stunning arrows. Scott was the one who had insisted that she use them instead of normal arrows, and he had a point. They had all failed to consider that each and every one of Raina’s soldiers was not doing this on their own volition. They weren’t bad guys; it was Raina who was forcing them to do all this.

 

Everyone, even the twins, had been quick to agree that they would not try to kill Raina’s fighters but only stall them to give Skye the chance to cut off the snake’s head. If everything went according to plan, Raina would be the only one to die tonight.

 

Allison grabbed her crossbow tighter. Its weight in her hand was reassuring, keeping her calm as she stared into the distance, looking for any sign of the Scavengers approaching. She suddenly wondered why one of the werewolves wasn’t up here with her. They could probably see much better than she could, and they would definitely be able to hear them coming from farther away.

 

Well, she figured they would all notice soon enough when the Scavengers started their attack.

 

The sun was setting and it was getting darker and darker. Allison knew that soon the full moon would appear between the clouds, and she had a very strong feeling that the Scavengers would attack as soon as that happened. She didn’t know why she was so sure about this; she just was.

 

Slowly, she moved closer to the edge of the roof, trying to find the perfect position to shoot but not be seen. She grabbed an arrow just as the full moon emerged from the clouds, bathing everything in its cold, silver light.

 

 _Here they come,_ she thought.

 

As if on cue, shadows appeared on the road leading to the warehouse. Allison narrowed her eyes and counted. There were fifteen of them. So even if she managed to take out three before they spotted her on the roof and she would have to make her retreat, that would still leave twelve of them for the other – eleven, if one excluded Raina. They were hopelessly outnumbered.

 

Allison gritted her teeth. They could do this. They had found themselves in hopeless situations before and had come out on the other side mostly unscathed. This was nothing else.

 

She put the arrow into her crossbow and drew. Her heartbeat actually slowed as she focused and her vision shrunk until she could only see her target – the man at the front of the group. He was tall with a shorn head and was wearing some kind of military uniform. He was holding an assault rifle and Allison had a feeling he was not a werewolf.

 

They came closer, almost moving in slow motion to Allison’s sharp focus. A single breath of air left her lips and then she took the shot.

 

The arrow found its mark with ease, burying into the man’s shoulder and sending out a surge of electricity. The man fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

 

She could hear an angry roar, but the next arrow had already left her crossbow. This time, it hit a tall woman right behind the man in the stomach, making her body convulse before she fell as well. There was another roar and a few harsh commands, yelled by a woman’s voice – Raina, presumably.

 

Allison got off one other shot, taking down a bulky, dark haired man who was already half transformed, before she decided it was time to retreat. She scurried across the roof, keeping low in hopes they hadn’t seen her yet, and lowered herself through the hatch she had used to get on the roof in the first place, landing smoothly right in the middle of the others. “They’re here.” she hissed, slightly out of breath.

 

Before anyone could say anything, the door burst open.

 

* * *

 

 

They were three people short.

 

The unseen archer had taken out the Captain, Harriet and Cole in a move Raina had to admit she hadn’t anticipated. Maybe the McCall pack was a bit more prepared than she had thought, but at the same time, the archer’s use of stunning arrows instead of killing ones had told her one important thing – they didn’t want to use lethal force.

 

They were soft, too soft, probably couldn’t bring themselves to kill someone who wasn’t in control of their own actions, and that was what was going to be their fatal flaw. Because unlike them, her soldiers wouldn’t hesitate do to whatever they had to do to win.

 

She took in the picture of the pack in front of her. Most of them looked scared but more or less determined, and Raina quickly assessed who might actually pose somewhat of a threat.

 

The twins, whose body language already betrayed that they had fighting experience and could probably hold their own. Hale, whose face was contorted with anger and hate and who probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill. The girl with the crossbow, most likely the archer from outside, who had proven that she was a great shot. McCall himself maybe, because he was a true Alpha after all, even if she had never seen him fight. And of course Skye, standing right in front, her face cold and set in stone and the batons in both her hands glowing blue with crackling electricity.

 

“Well” Raina said and unwound the whip from around her waist, letting it snap through the air with a loud crack. “Let’s get this party started.”


	40. Thirty-Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not used to writing fight scenes, so I hope it's not too bad.

The first one was always easy.

 

It was one of the men, his arms and torso bulging with muscles, eyes glowing the color of blood. He came at her almost ridiculously slow and Skye dodged his hit with ease, smashing one of her batons against his chest. She heard ribs crack and he howled in pain and anger, but before he could take another swing, her second baton caught him across the head and he fell like a tree, his whole body twitching with the electricity. He was completely human again by the time he hit the ground.

 

The first one was always easy because after that everything usually erupted in chaos.

 

Skye had to leap backwards to avoid getting her throat slashed and caught a kick into the side in the process. She gasped in pain as she felt a rib crack but ignored it as she turned around in the blink of an eye and took her attacker out with a single lightning bolt to the chest.

 

Her gaze flickered across the room, looking for Raina while simultaneously trying to see how the others were doing. Scott was trying to keep two werewolves at once off of Allison, who had retreated to a corner and was firing arrow after arrow from her position – _smart move_ , Skye thought. The twins had just taken out a lean, cat-like woman and were now rushing to stop another werewolf from attacking Stiles and Lydia, while Isaac dodged hits and was evidently trying to get to Scott to help him. And Derek…

 

Before she could find Derek, a searing pain shot through her back. She hissed in pain as she felt hot blood soaking her shirt, and when she turned around she saw Raina standing a few feet away from her, whip loosely in hand. There was a wide, sadistic grin on her face.

 

The anger flared up so hot inside of her chest that suddenly she couldn’t feel the pain. She leaped towards Raina but was stopped mid-motion when a tall, blonde werewolf slammed into her with all his weight and tore her to the ground. His sheer weight pushed all the air out of her lungs and left her struggling for breath, lying helplessly below him for a moment.

 

He bared his teeth in what looked like a grin and raised his hand with his claws extended, probably to slash her throat, but then he was abruptly pulled off of her and thrown into a nearby wall.

 

Skye was on her feet again immediately. It was Derek who had saved her, but she only had time to exchange one quick glance of thanks with him before the blond werewolf was back and lunged towards them. Derek managed to dodge his hit, but the other werewolf charged again and wrapped him in a chokehold.

 

Skye felt a quick but intense flash of panic as she saw Derek struggling against the hold in vain and she was about to jump in to help him when his gaze caught hers. There was a grim satisfaction in his eyes and a few seconds later she saw why. His body started shifting and changing and in a matter of moments he was the giant black wolf she had found outside of her apartment just a few days ago, even though it felt like weeks.

 

His glowing eyes found hers. They weren’t blue anymore. They were red. And that was when she realized it. Derek had killed Dmitri. He was an Alpha again, and the other wolf didn’t stand a chance.

 

He broke out of the other werewolf’s grip with ease and then threw himself against him. Skye heard a bone break as Derek’s massive jaws found his arm and she turned away. Derek would be fine.

 

Raina wasn’t there anymore.

 

Skye’s eyes darted through the room and she found her on the other side of the fight, calmly watching on but not making any move to join in herself. The woman’s grey eyes found hers and again, she gave her a taunting smile, sending her a very clear message. _Catch me if you can, Skye._

 

Skye gritted her teeth and grabbed her batons tighter, letting electricity flow through them once again until they were glowing bright blue. Raina would regret this. That she would make sure of.

 

She started running and then jumped, using the shoulders of another one of the Scavengers as a springboard to leap across the fight that was unfolding in the middle of the room. She landed with a perfect somersault that caused her broken rib to send a rush of pain through her chest and ended up on her feet again directly in front of Raina. So all that parkour training her father had put her through had been good for something after all.

 

Skye had made it to her target, but it took her a moment to catch her breath and before she could take a hit at Raina, her whip slashed across her back again, tearing through fabric and skin. Skye hissed in pain as she felt the metal tip of the whip leave another deep gash, but she forced herself to ignore the pain and attack.

 

Raina narrowly dodged one of her batons and grabbed the other one, effectively stopping it mid-air, but Skye had anticipated her move and yanked at the baton as hard as she could, grinning in satisfaction as she heard Raina’s shoulder dislocate with a pop. For the first time, the other woman’s composed mask fell and she gave an angry snarl. “You’re going to regret this.” she hissed.

 

With one quick and practiced motion, she slid her shoulder back into its socket, her face briefly contorting in pain, and Skye used that single moment of distraction to get behind Raina and slam one of her batons into her back, shooting a blast of electricity through it.

 

The other woman tumbled forward with a strangled sound of pain as the electricity shot through her body, but she managed to catch herself with her uninjured arm and was on her feet again in the blink of an eye. Her whip lashed through the air before Skye could even think about dodging, hitting her across the cheek.

 

The burning pain made her stumble for a second and that was all Raina needed to kick her into the chest, right against her already broken rib. Skye couldn’t suppress a cry of pain and Raina laughed, a sadistic, cold laugh. “Guess you’re not as good as you thought.” she scoffed, raising her hand to take another swing with her whip.

 

Skye forced the pain down as far as she possibly could and leapt to her feet, the whip’s tip narrowly missing her face. However, the whip tangled around one of her batons, and with a quick yank Raina tore it away. It clattered to the ground just far enough away to give Skye absolutely no chance of retrieving it.

 

Raina laughed again. Without thinking, Skye grabbed one of the knives still strapped to her thighs and threw it. It hit Raina into the shoulder, cutting her laugh short and stopping the next blow of her whip mid-motion.

 

Skye raised her now free hand and shot a lightning bolt towards Raina, which she managed to dodge in spite of the knife still stuck in her shoulder. She pulled it out with one swift motion, leaving splatters of blood all over the ground. “You’re going to pay for this.” she hissed, kicking the knife away. It came to rest next to the baton.

 

For a second, Skye considered using one of her guns, but it would take way too much time to get them out of their holster and take a shot. Raina would’ve made a move by then. So instead, she ducked when the whip hit again, sending another knife flying towards the other woman. This time, it only grazed her cheek and Raina cackled.

 

They were circling each other now, two predators trying to figure out their next move. The rest of the fight seemed to have ceased existing. All Skye could see, all she could think about was this fight – a fight she had to win, or otherwise everyone she cared about would die. She could hear her heart pounding like crazy in her ears, her broken ribs grinding against each other every time she moved. The smell of blood filled the room.

 

Raina raised her whip and at the same time Skye realized what she had to do.

 

Suddenly, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Instead of leaping away when the whip came down on her, Skye grabbed it. It tore open her palms but still he held on, sliding towards Raina as she pulled her whip back, unaware of what Skye was doing.

 

It was almost too easy. She used her momentum to get behind Raina once again, wrapping the whip around her neck and pulling. The other woman gasped and struggled against her hold, managing to ram one of her own knives into Skye’s thigh to the hilt, but still she didn’t let go, barely feeling the pain. She pulled as hard as she could, her muscles straining until she felt like they would tear, and then it was over.

 

She heard something snap and just like that, Raina’s body went limp.

 

It was as if the world stopped turning for a moment. Raina’s body hit the ground as Skye let go of the whip and at the same time the fight just stopped. Every single one of the Scavengers that was still conscious simply stopped fighting, some of them seemingly freezing mid-punch. When Skye looked at them, she saw that their eyes were filled with a mixture of shock, disbelief and horror.

 

Skye suddenly felt weirdly detached from what was happening. This was the moment; she knew that – the part of her plan where she left without turning back. But she couldn’t bring herself to move.

 

Her eyes found Derek’s. He was still in his wolf form, but in his eyes she could see the exact moment when realization hit him. “I’m sorry.” she mouthed. Then she turned and ran.

 

* * *

 

 

Skye didn’t even feel her countless injuries until she was already halfway out of Beacon Hills.

 

That was when the tears started flowing too. She forced the sobs down by focusing on the burning pain on her back instead of the agony inside of her and floored the gas.

 

 _This is the only way,_ she told herself. _Derek will be okay._

Still, she could almost physically feel her heart break when she passed the “Welcome in Beacon Hills” sign she had passed in the opposite direction before.

 

It had only been a few months ago, but it felt like forever.


	41. Forty

The fight was won, but Derek felt like he’d lost everything.

 

He’d run out after Skye as soon as he’d realized what she was doing, turning back mid-run – he still didn’t know how he’d done that without tripping over his own feet – but he’d been too late to do anything but watch her car speed away until it vanished around a corner. The image of her face, covered in blood as she apologized before running out, was burned into his mind.

 

When he walked back inside, the pack members were all standing and seemed mostly okay. Almost all of them had a few nasty gashes that were already healing and Isaac was clutching what seemed like a broken arm, but Derek couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt empty.

 

His gaze found the Scavengers. They were huddled in one corner as far away from Raina’s body as possible, some of them still unconscious. For a moment Derek almost felt sympathy for them – he couldn’t imagine what it was like to be forced to do unspeakable things without being able to do anything about it – but then his eyes met Eli’s and he snapped.

 

Rationally, he knew that the Eli who had tortured him and had tried to kill Skye earlier wasn’t the real Eli, that he had been under Raina’s influence, but he didn’t care. All his frustration and desperation and anger unloaded at once and he crossed the room with a few wide steps, slamming his fist into Eli’s face as hard as he could.

 

He heard a bone break and felt a brief sense of satisfaction before hitting Eli again. Blood was splashing everywhere but Derek didn’t care. He needed to feel something else besides the overwhelming emptiness and the feeling of hurting the one who had hurt him was good enough.

 

He would’ve probably killed Eli if arms hadn’t suddenly wrapped around him from behind, pulling him away against his protests. “Derek, stop!” Scott said into his ear. “It’s not his fault!”

 

Derek’s anger vanished as fast as it had come. Suddenly he realized that Eli hadn’t fought back, hadn’t even tried to protect himself.

 

When he looked at Eli, his face was a bloody mess but he could still see the sincere regret and guilt in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” the blond werewolf murmured, his voice slurred and barely audible. Derek felt nauseous.

 

His thoughts kept circling back to one question: Why had Skye left? At first he’d thought that she was still angry at him for what he’d said about Ford, but there hadn’t been any anger in her eyes when she’d apologized. There had been pain and regret, which only left him with one possible conclusion – she hadn’t wanted to leave.

 

Something must have happened to convince Skye that leaving was her only option, and Derek just couldn’t figure out what it was.

 

Scott’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “You’re free to go.”

 

It was directed at the remaining Scavengers and they all looked at him incredulously, as if they couldn’t believe he would really let them go after what they’d done to his pack. Sometimes Derek couldn’t believe Scott’s kindness either, but this time he actually agreed with him, even after what Eli and Savannah had done to him. It hadn’t been their fault but Raina’s, and Raina was lying on the ground with a broken neck. She had gotten what was coming for her.

 

Slowly, as if they still expected them to attack, they moved out of their corner and towards the door, dragging those who were still unconscious with them. Derek wondered briefly what they would do now, how they would live with whatever else Raina had made them do.

 

The last two who remained were Eli and Savannah. Derek painfully remembered what they had made him go through – the physical pain as well as the psychological torture – but he couldn’t deny the twinge of guilt he felt when he saw how Eli swayed a little, holding on to the petite woman’s shoulder for balance.

 

They stopped right in front of him. Savannah simply looked at him and Derek felt like she could see right through him. They stood like this for what felt like hours but was probably only a few seconds until she said in her accented voice: “I’m sorry, Derek. I really am.” He had a feeling she wasn’t only talking about the torture, but before he could reply, she vanished out of the door, Eli directly besides her.

 

Derek’s chest suddenly felt too tight. He could barely breathe as reality hit him once again. Skye was gone. Skye had left, and there was no way he was ever going to find her if she didn’t want to be found. His hands started trembling and he clenched them into fists.

 

He knew that he should stay, should help the pack with what they needed to do now – get rid of Raina’s body, for example – but he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t.

 

“I gotta go.” he pressed out. He didn’t wait for Scott’s answer.

 

* * *

 

 

Skye stopped at a gas station a few miles from the I-5.

 

The cuts on her back and cheek, the knife wound on her thigh and her palm that had been torn open by Raina’s whip were all healed by now, but her clothes were still torn and covered in blood. She tossed all of her weapons except one gun into the trunk of her car and changed into clean clothes in the bathroom. Her chest was aching with pain from her broken rib and she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

 

When she caught a look at herself in the bathroom mirror, she realized how terrible she looked. Her hair was a tangled mess and her eyes were red from crying. “Get it together, Skye.” she told her reflection. It didn’t do any good.

 

Once outside, she started filling up the Dodge’s tank. She was planning on driving through the night, hopefully making it as far north as Portland. There, she would ditch the car and get a few hours of sleep before heading east, as far away from California as she could possibly get. New York, maybe. It had been a while since she’d seen Manhattan. (Ditching her trusted car, something that would’ve seemed nearly unendurable only days ago, suddenly seemed like nothing compared to what she’d left behind.)

 

The pain in her chest flared up violently when she bend down to get her wallet out of the car and she briefly considered taking some Vicodin, but decided against it. The physical pain at least gave her something to focus on besides the gaping hole inside of her.

 

She was about to head inside to pay when suddenly she heard steps and an arm wrapped around her from behind, muffling her cry of surprise. “Hello, Skye. I’ve been looking forward to finally meeting you.” her attacker whispered right next to her ear.

 

Ice-cold panic filled her. There was only explanation. Victor Ford had finally found her.

 

She tried to summon her electricity to fight him off but before she could even so much as attempt to focus, something pierced her neck and her world went black.

 

* * *

 

It was a sign of just how crazy Stiles’ life had gotten over the last year that he didn’t even mind having to get rid of a body.

 

They soaked Raina’s body in gasoline from his jeep, complete with the whip still wrapped around her neck, and then set her on fire. The smell of burning hair filled the room and suddenly Stiles had to suppress the urge to throw up. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he had thought.

 

They stood around Raina as she burned, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Even the twins were there, and for a moment Stiles felt like maybe they weren’t such bad guys after all. They had certainly saved his and Lydia’s life more than once tonight.

 

Skye and Derek were the only ones who weren’t there. Skye had run out just after Raina had fallen, before anyone had really been able to realize what had happened, and Stiles had a feeling she wasn’t going to come back. He didn’t know why she had decided to leave, if this was about her fight with Derek or about what Lydia and he had told her, even though she had evidently survived the fight. All he knew was that when Derek had left only minutes after without a goodbye after almost beating one of the Scavengers to death, the pain on the former Alpha’s face had been clear for everyone to see.

 

Whatever Skye had been intending by leaving, Stiles was pretty sure that she had broken Derek’s heart in the process.

 

As soon as there was nothing left of Raina but a few blackened bones and the metal tip of her whip, they put her remains into a plastic bag and the twins offered to bury them in the forest where hopefully no one would ever find them. Stiles was actually a little relieved that he wouldn’t have to be a part of that. Even though Raina had been a thoroughly evil person, it still felt a little wrong to treat her like that in death.

 

Scott turned towards the rest of the pack as soon as the twins had left along with what remained of Raina.

 

“We did it.” he said with a small smile on his lips. “It’s over. Let’s go home.”

 

Stiles smiled back. Home sounded pretty damn tempting right now.


	42. Forty-One

Skye awoke tied to a chair.

 

Her chest was throbbing with pain but that became the least of her concerns as soon as she realized what had happened. The Guardians had finally caught up to her. Ford had found her before she’d found him.

 

Her eyes darted across the room, quickly taking in her surroundings. She appeared to be in some kind of basement, because there were no windows and a narrow flight of stairs on the opposite of the room seemed to be the only way out. The room was lit by a single lightbulb on the ceiling and there was no furniture except for the chair she was tied to.

 

She twisted her head to look behind her. The restraints holding her in place seemed to be ordinary ropes, easy to tear apart, but when she tugged at them, she realized that she was much weaker than she should be. She concentrated and tried to let her hands flare up blue but nothing happened, and that was when she remembered Ford had pierced her neck when he’d taken her. There was only one possible explanation – he must have injected her with foxglove, rendering her virtually powerless.

 

Panic started building up inside of her, but she forced it down. She had to stay calm and focused if she ever wanted to make it out of here. ( _You won’t make it out of here. The Banshee said so,_ a voice in her head whispered. Skye did her best to ignore it.)

 

She threw herself backwards with all her weight, trying to get the chair to fall over, but apparently the Guardians had thought of everything, because the chair was bolted to the floor. Skye realized that there was no way she was getting out of these restraints, not while she was weakened by the foxglove. A string of Chinese curses left her lips, followed by a low chuckle. “Oh, Skye.” a male voice said. “There’s no need to be vulgar.”

 

For the first time in her life, Skye laid eyes on Victor Ford as he slowly walked down the stairs.

 

He was shorter than she’d always imagined and his hair was mostly grey, not dark blond like in the photos she’d seen of him, but his face was enough to make her blood run cold. It might have been handsome, with his chiseled jawline covered in a bit of stubble and his icy-blue eyes, if it weren’t for the glint of cruelty in his eyes and the sadistic smile curving his thin lips.

 

“I think I have every right to be vulgar, considering you have me tied to a chair in some fucking basement.” Skye said coldly. Her voice sounded much calmer than she actually felt.

 

Ford chuckled again. “I can already tell this is going to be fun.” he muttered, probably more to himself than to her.

 

She snorted. “I believe you and I have very different definitions of fun.”

 

He nodded thoughtfully and slowly began circling around her, like a predator closing in on its prey. “True. Do you want to know mine?” “Not really.” Skye said, but evidently this had been a rhetoric question because Ford simply kept talking. “I am thinking of something like torturing you until you beg for mercy and then putting a bullet into your brain.” He looked at her with a wide grin on his face. “Sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

 

Skye shivered. Her chest suddenly felt too tight to breathe, but she forced her voice to sound firm and collected when she replied: “Well, I’d rather slowly cut you to pieces to make you pay for what you did to my family, so I guess we won’t reach an understanding there.”

 

This time, Ford full out laughed. “I have to say, Skye, you’re even more amusing than I imagined.” he said. “I think I’ve never seen anyone of your kind remain so defiant in the face of certain death.”

 

Skye raised her chin a little, determined to not show him any weakness. “Who says I’m going to die here?”

 

He smirked. “Oh, do you think your werewolf boyfriend is going to come to your rescue? You can’t fool me, Skye. I know you left without telling him where you were going. He’s not going to come looking for you.”

 

Her heart clenched with pain at the mention of Derek but she managed to keep her face completely blank as Ford continued. “Smart move, by the way – leaving to get him out of harm’s way. It won’t work, of course. I’m already looking forward to bringing him here and killing him in front of you. I bet your face will be priceless.”

 

Panic exploded inside of her and her already fragile composure crumbled. She threw herself against her restraint in a hopeless effort to tear Ford’s throat out and make sure he never laid a finger on Derek. “Don’t you dare touch him!” she hissed.

 

Ford smiled. “You should’ve thought of that before you fell in love with him, Skye.” he said, a perverse pleasure at seeing her fear on his face. “Raina told me all about you two lovebirds. It’s a shame you killed her. She was a valuable resource. Of course, we would’ve killed her in the end anyway, but she could’ve been of a lot more use to us.”

 

Of course, Skye thought bitterly. Of course two as fundamentally evil people as Raina and Ford would work together.

 

She felt a sharp sting of regret as she realized that all the pain she had put herself through when deciding to leave and all the pain she was probably putting Derek through right now had been in vain. Her fate had been sealed from the moment the Scavengers had set their sights on Beacon Hills. She had stayed too long and she had allowed herself to grow attached and now Derek would die because of her selfishness.

 

The guilt was overwhelming, building up inside of her until she thought she couldn’t breathe. She clenched her fists until she could feel her nails digging into palms, the physical pain relieving at least some of the pain inside of her.

 

Ford’s voice tore her out of her dreadful thoughts. “As much as I enjoy seeing you realize you basically sentenced your boyfriend to death, I have a few other things planned for you before we get to that part of the torture. Shall we get started?”

 

“Do I even have the option to say no?” Skye asked hoarsely. He grinned. “Now that you ask, no, you don’t.”

 

He walked away from her and started to ascend the stairs again, but halfway up he turned around once more. “You have no idea how long I have waited for this, Skye.” he said. “I’ll do everything to make sure it’s worth my while.”

 

With that he left the room, turning off the light in the process. The heavy door slammed shut behind him and Skye was left in total darkness, fear and guilt battling for dominance inside of her.

 

* * *

 

 

“Aiden, wait!”

 

Aiden turned around at the all too familiar voice calling his name. Lydia was walking towards him, looking a little disheveled but otherwise fine. Like usually, he couldn’t read the expression on her face, but she didn’t seem annoyed or angry – which he took as a good sign.

 

Her next question took him completely by surprise. “Are you okay?”

 

He stared at her blankly for a moment – he had gotten so used to her being annoyed at him that her question didn’t even fully register with him at first – until he managed to answer. “Yeah, I’m alright. Got a broken rib, but it’s already healing.” He hesitated a second, then he added: “Are you?”

 

Lydia actually gave him a little smile and a sudden warmth spread in his stomach. She nodded, her eyes fixed on his, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away. He wouldn’t admit it, least of all to her, but he had spent most of the fight making sure no one got to her. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if someone had hurt her.

 

For a while they simply stood like this, looking at each other like they were paralyzed, and then Lydia crossed the distance between with a few steps and kissed him.

 

Her lips were soft and warm against his and he kissed her back out of pure instinct, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. When she pulled away, he was happier than he’d been in months and yearning for more. “What was that for?” he asked hoarsely.

 

Her mouth twitched with the hint of a smirk. “I just felt like it.” she said. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

 

Behind her back, Ethan gave him a thumbs-up.


	43. Forty-Two

It took Ford two full hours to come back.

 

Skye spent those two hours counting seconds, which was also the only way she could be sure of how much time had actually passed. She strongly suspected that making her wait was already part of the torture, and it was working. Her thoughts were a mess of anxiously awaiting what Ford had planned for her and picturing Derek being killed in front of her. Counting the time was the only thing that kept her remotely sane.

 

The first thing she heard to indicate his return was the sound of the door opening and then he walked down the stairs with a smile on his lips. He wasn’t alone but was followed by another man, this one in his late twenties and a few inches taller than Ford. His dark eyes were glinting with hate and he was carrying a black leather suitcase.

 

“Hello, Skye.” Ford said cheerfully. “Sorry for letting you wait. Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Jack.” He gestured towards the other man and his grin grew even wider. “You killed his fiancée, so he has a score to settle with you.” Skye forced herself to smile at Jack. “Your fiancée must have deserved it then.”

 

He made a sound like a growl and stepped closer to her, but Ford held him back by simply placing a hand on his shoulder. “Patience, Jack.” he said quietly, almost too quietly for Skye to hear. “She is trying to push your buttons. Don’t let her get to you. She’ll get what’s coming to her soon enough.”

 

Jack took a deep breath and then nodded slowly. The anger was still in his eyes, but he appeared to have himself under control again.

 

Skye kept the smile on her face, even though it felt like a mask. Provoking them in hopes one of them would make a mistake was her only chance, and Jack seemed much more likely to do so than Ford. She just had to get him to lose his composure again. “That’s right, Jack.” she said sweetly. “Don’t throw such a fit. I probably did you a favor by taking her off your hands.”

 

A muscle in Jack’s face twitched but he didn’t lose his composure again. Instead, he set down the black suitcase he’d brought in with him and opened it.

 

It was filled with countless different torture instruments, most of which Skye had never seen in her life, and her chest grew tight. _You can do this, Skye,_ she told herself. _The longer you can bear it, the longer to figure out a way to save Derek._

 

Ford grinned at her. “As you see, we’ve brought quite the arsenal. But we’ll start you off on something nice and gentle. Jack, get the water.”

 

Waterboarding then. Not exactly her definition of nice and gentle, but at least it wouldn’t physically weaken her further, in case she would try and fight her way out of here. Her smile grew strained, but she managed to keep it on her face as she said: “How about you untie me and I gently break every single bone in your body instead?”

 

Ford chuckled but didn’t say anything. Instead, he took a piece of cloth from the suitcase and slowly walked up behind her. He grabbed her hair and roughly yanked her head back, placing the cloth over her face, leaving her eyes uncovered. Her nose filled with the copper smell of blood and she had to suppress the urge to throw up.

 

“Jack, you go first.” Ford said. “I trust you’ll get a great deal of pleasure from it.”

 

The other man appeared in her line of vision. There was a grim smile on his face and he was holding a bucket. Slowly, he leaned closer to her until she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. “This is for Ellen.” he whispered, his voice full of hate. Then he emptied the bucket over her face.

 

It was worse than Skye had imagined. The water filled her mouth and nose, making it impossible to breathe. She frantically gasped for air but that just made it worse as she only sucked in more water, making her choke. Ford’s hand was firmly pressing the cloth down on her face, and no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t break his grip. He was stronger than he looked, and she was weakened by the foxglove.

 

Stars appeared at the edge of her vision. Her lungs were seizing up inside of her, trying desperately to get some air, but with every breath she only took in more water. She was sure she was going to pass out when suddenly Ford’s hands were gone and she could breathe again.

 

She bent forward and spit out the water, gasping for air between coughs and gags. The pain from her broken rib flared up again – another effect of the foxglove; her injuries didn’t heal – and when she had coughed up all the water, her throat was burning. She thought of Derek and managed to paste a smile on her face when she looked up at Ford.

 

“That was fun.” she said, panting. “Though I have to say, I’d imagined you to be a bit more original.”

 

Ford smirked. “Oh, Skye, but this is only the beginning.” he replied, wringing out the cloth he was still holding. “I’ve got plenty of original stuff, but I’m saving that for later. I’m already looking forward to it.”

 

He held out the cloth to Jack and grabbed the bucket instead. “My turn.” he said.

 

Once again, her head was yanked back, but this time by Jack who was ever rougher, tearing out a strand of hair in the process. She had to suppress a hiss of pain and Jack gave her a wide, cruel grin. “Let’s see how long it takes until you don’t find this that much fun anymore.” he muttered.

 

Then the cloth and the water were back, and for a while, Skye was solely focused on staying conscious, not showing them any weakness and taunting them.

 

As insane as it was, she was trying to drag her torture out as long as she could, because when she was being tortured that meant that Derek was safe.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek would’ve given anything to be able to get drunk.

 

He just wanted to forget everything that had happened, not only that Skye was gone but also that during the fight he had realized killing Dmitri had made him an Alpha again. He had no idea how he would deal with that, absolutely none, but frankly, he didn’t even really care. He was just trying to forget it, banish it from his mind as if it wouldn’t be real then.

 

Derek didn’t know if Scott or any of the others had noticed his red eyes during the fight, but if they had, no one had said anything, though it wasn’t like he’d given them a chance. He hoped they hadn’t noticed. That way he would have time to figure out how he felt about it himself.

 

The first time around, he hadn’t exactly been the Alpha of the year. And now here he was again, an Alpha without a pack – just like Hardy.

 

He pushed the thought as far away from him as possible. Alpha or not, Skye was gone. That didn’t change. Neither did the emptiness inside of him threatening to swallow everything else, the emptiness that resulted from having loved Skye and having lost her.

 

He stood up in one swift motion. Before he’d met Skye, he had used to go for a run whenever he wanted to keep the memories away. Maybe this would work now too.

 

It didn’t. His new Alpha body was too strong and too resilient and it didn’t tire out, no matter how fast he ran. His thoughts kept racing in his head, torturing him and making his heart beat faster than the running ever would.

 

Here he was – his life even more of a mess than before he’d met Skye.


	44. Forty-Three

Sometime after Jack and Ford had left her, Skye drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

 

She hadn’t meant to – asleep, she felt even more at Ford’s mercy than awake – but she had been awake for close to forty-eight hours and simply couldn’t stop it anymore. Her eyes fell shut against her will and dreams curled around her like smoke, pulling her under even deeper and filling her head with confusing and terrifying pictures.

 

Someone woke her up after what felt like three hours at most, though she couldn’t be sure. It was Ford, his hands resting heavily on both her shoulders and his face only inches from hers. Skye was wide awake and alert in the blink of an eye. Ford was grinning at her, and she acted out of pure impulse, spitting right into his face.

 

For a moment, he looked mildly irritated, then he simply stood up, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaned his face. “That is how you thank me for my hospitality, Skye?” he asked, feigning disappointment. “I thought your parents taught you better manners. But I suppose they didn’t really live long enough for that, did they?”

 

She felt a sharp pang of grief at his words and had to focus very hard on keeping her face blank. “Just do whatever you came down here to do, Victor.” she said, her voice still hoarse from the waterboarding. “I really don’t want to listen to your voice any longer than I have to.”

 

Ford smiled. “Very well. This will actually be even more amusing than talking to you.”

 

He went over to the leather suitcase that Jack and him had left down here and took out an array of knives of different lengths, some of them with curved or toothed blades, spreading them out in front of her. Skye’s heart started beating a little faster.

 

“You know, Skye,” he said casually while he went over to the suitcase again, taking out a dark bottle and a syringe filled with a reddish liquid, “my favorite method of torture is actually electrocution. It’s just so… satisfying to watch monsters like you convulsing and screaming in pain, just because of a few little sparks. For you, of course, I had to come up with something else.”

 

“What a shame.” Skye said sarcastically. Ford chuckled. “I see you still haven’t lost your big mouth. I doubt you’ll still be this cheeky when I’m done with you.”

 

He walked towards her, a knife with a serrated blade in hand, and Skye tried to brace herself for the cut, but it didn’t come. Instead, Ford raised the syringe he was still holding in his other hand. “I’ve got some more foxglove for you before we get started.” he said, giving her a smirk. “We don’t want you to start healing now, do we?”

 

The needle pierced her neck before Skye could say anything. She could feel the poison burning its way through her veins and did her best to suppress a hiss of pain. Maybe poisoning her was Ford’s endgame. In low doses, foxglove would only inhibit her powers, but in higher doses, it would lead to a very cruel and very painful death. Maybe he would just increase the dose with each injection until he didn’t even have to move a finger anymore to torture her.

 

The pain from the injection had barely faded when Ford’s hand with the knife moved too fast for her to see, aiming for her upper arm. Skye bit back a scream as the blade tore through skin and muscle, leaving behind a deep, bloody gash. Before she was even able to catch a breath, Ford charged again, placing an identical cut on her other arm. This time, Skye couldn’t stop a strangled scream from forcing its way out of her mouth.

 

Ford gave a wide grin. “Finally.” he said. “I thought I would never get to hear you scream. It’s such an enjoyable sound.” He let the knife clatter to the ground and grabbed the bottle instead, opening it with one swift motion and pouring some of the content over her arms.

 

The sharp scent of alcohol reached her at the same time as the burning pain. It felt like she was being set on fire alive, and her scream of agony echoed in the small basement. She bit her tongue to keep herself from screaming again until she could taste blood.

 

Ford laughed, a manic glint in his eyes. “Now that is what I call a proper scream!” he exclaimed as soon as he had stopped laughing. “Do you still think this is fun, Skye?”

 

She spit out a mixture of blood and saliva and then raised her head to look at him. “I’m actually getting a little bored.” she replied, Derek’s face inside her of her mind. “Is that the best you can do?”

 

This time, full out anger appeared on Ford’s face. “So this is what you want to do, Skye?” he growled. “You want to taunt me, try to provoke me so I’ll make a mistake? Let me tell you something, little girl, it is not going to work. I’m only going to hurt you worse until you finally admit that I won.”

 

His face was dangerously close to hers now, so close she could feel his breath on her face. His eyes were piercing into hers, daring her to look away, but she looked straight ahead, not breaking eye contact for a second. “We’ll see.” she whispered.

 

Skye didn’t see it coming. One moment Ford was right in front of her, the next he was sinking a knife into her stomach just above her hipbone. She gasped in surprise as she felt the cold blade enter her body, but the pain didn’t hit her until he pulled the knife out again.

 

It took all her self-control not to give him the satisfaction he wanted and scream out again. She was pretty sure that he hadn’t hit a major artery – there wasn’t enough blood, and he didn’t want to kill her, not yet – but it still hurt like hell, a continuous deep throbbing. _Breathe, Skye,_ she told herself. _You’ve been stabbed before. You can take this, for Derek._

She gritted her teeth, bracing for the alcohol again, but instead, Ford’s fist hit her chest right where her rib was already broken. At least one other rib audibly cracked and Skye tried to scream, but her lungs didn’t seem to be able to fill properly. She could see stars at the edge of her vision and did her best to stay conscious.

 

A hand – Ford’s hand – grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him. “Still bored?” he drawled.

 

As soon as she could breathe again, she spit out a single word. “Yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

For the first time in weeks, Scott slept in.

 

There was nothing he needed to take care of today, nothing he needed to prepare for and nothing he needed to think about – well, except maybe one thing.

 

During the fight against the Scavengers, when Derek had transformed into a wolf – which had been spectacular enough in itself – he could’ve sworn he had seen his eyes light up red. Of course, he’d had other things to do than to check again in the middle of the fight, but the longer he’d thought about it afterwards, the surer he had become. So after a delicious breakfast with his mum and Isaac, he decided to pay Derek a visit – half to ask him about the eye thing, half to check if he was okay after Skye had just left like that.

 

His mum let him borrow her car and so it only took him a little over ten minutes to get to the building Derek’s loft was in. The black Camaro was parked out front and he took that as a good sign.

 

Scott didn’t bother ringing. He knew that Derek would hear him before he even entered the building, and sure enough, the door to the loft was slid open before Scott had even made it to the top of the stairs.

 

Derek looked terrible, but Scott refrained from pointing that out as Stiles might’ve had. Instead, he simply said: “I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

 

The older werewolf didn’t seem too happy about his visit, but he stepped aside wordlessly, gesturing for Scott to come in. He spoke before Scott even had the chance to think of a way to word his suspicion. “So I assume you noticed?”

 

Scott hesitated a moment before replying. “That you’re an Alpha again? Yes. But how?”

 

“Dmitri was one.” That was the only explanation he offered, and it was everything Scott needed to know. He had a feeling that Derek wasn’t really happy about this new development, showing just how much he had really changed. Before, he had immediately started building his pack, but now he just seemed resigned.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Scott asked.

 

Derek shrugged. “I didn’t even realize, not until the fight. When I killed Dmitri, I… wasn’t exactly myself. It took me completely by surprise when I transformed and realized that I was much stronger than I should be.”

 

Another moment of hesitation, then Scott asked: “What are you going to do now?”

 

He gave a dry, joyless chuckle. “Don’t worry, Scott. I’m not going to try and take over your pack. Honestly, I don’t even know if I’ll stay in Beacon Hills.”

 

Derek’s voice sounded hollow, and suddenly Scott felt a rush of sympathy for the older werewolf. “Just… let me know if I can help, okay?” he said quietly. “I know we haven’t always been on the best terms, but… well.” He had meant to say _I know Skye meant a lot to you,_ but he stopped himself when he saw the look on Derek’s face – half pain, half disbelief.

 

Derek gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you, Scott.” he said. “But I think I’ll just need time to figure it out.”

 

Scott didn’t really believe him.


	45. Forty-Four

Skye didn’t fall asleep again.

 

Whenever her eyes threatened to fall shut, the pain in her chest, her arms or her stomach flared up again and kept her awake, and maybe that was the only good thing about it. That way, Ford at least wouldn’t be able to take her by surprise again.

 

She had no idea how much time had passed when he descended the stairs again, accompanied by Jack and another man, this one short, bulky and about Ford’s age. When the lightbulb flickered on, she saw the puddle of blood below her and realized that the blood loss had been greater than she’d thought.

 

Ford wordlessly crossed the room, injecting her with another dose of foxglove and smiling when she hissed in pain, before he took a step back and gestured towards the second man. “This is Roberto.” he said. “He decided to join in today. You killed his son, Marco. He was only twenty-one, a promising soldier.”

 

Skye raised her head and looked Roberto in the eye. “He was a monster in training.” she spit out. “It was a good thing I took him out before he became like his father.”

 

Roberto snarled, but apparently his self-control was better than Jack’s, because he stayed where he was and didn’t move an inch. Ford turned back towards the two. “Didn’t I tell you she was a sassy one?” he said, almost something like pride in his voice. “She’s still talking back, after everything we already did to her. We might need to step up our game.”

 

Both Jack and Roberto nodded, grim smiles on their faces, and Ford turned so he was facing her again. “What do you say, Skye?” he asked. “Ready for another round?”

 

She forced herself to smirk, mentally already bracing herself for the pain. “Bring it on, boys.”

 

Ford was the first to hit her. He went for her chest again, pushing the air out of her lungs so only a gasp of pain left her lips when Jack hit her square in the face, her head slamming back against the chair.

 

She must have blacked out for a moment because when her vision cleared again, Roberto had a knife to her cheek, slowly drawing it down from her temple to her jaw. She whimpered in pain and a grin tugged at his mouth. “This is for Marco.” he growled, repeating the same movement on the other side of her face before grabbing the alcohol Ford had used earlier and pouring it over her face.

 

Her scream barely sounded human, a sound of pure, raw agony, but Roberto kept going, pressing his thumbs into the fresh cuts and rubbing it in. Alcohol got in her mouth and nose, burning like fire and making it hard to breathe, but still she couldn’t stop screaming. Somewhere behind her she could hear Jack and Ford laughing, laughing and laughing and laughing, until she was close to passing out from pain and Roberto finally stopped.

 

After that, she lost count of the hits.

 

They kept coming at her from all sides, with fists and boots and knives, and all she could do was curl around herself protectively as much as the restraints allowed and bear the pain. After a while, she didn’t even know anymore if she was screaming or not. She felt weirdly detached from the pain, as if it was happening to someone else.

 

 _Derek,_ Skye thought. _Derek, Derek, Derek._ She clung to his name like it was a lifeline. She had to bear the pain, for him. If she begged for mercy or even gave them the slightest impression of giving up, they would know that they had broken her and they would come for him. There was no way she was going to let that happen.

 

By the time they were done, there wasn’t a single spot on her body that wasn’t covered in bruises or cuts. She had multiple broken ribs that made it impossible to take anything but quick, shallow breaths and she could taste blood. She wasn’t sure if she had just bitten her tongue again or if one of the ribs had punctured a lung.

 

Before they left, Ford walked up to her once again, ramming another syringe into her neck. “To make it last.” he whispered into her ear.

 

“Fuck off.” Skye muttered, using up almost all of her remaining strength. Ford didn’t answer.

 

They might have broken her body, but they hadn’t broken her mind. She would protect Derek until her dying breath.

 

* * *

 

 

Skye faded in and out of consciousness.

 

The pain rose and ebbed down again in waves. She couldn’t even trace it to a single part of her body anymore; it was like pain was all she could feel – or maybe it was the foxglove, sending spasms of pain through her whole body. The blood loss from the countless cuts and the stab wound made her lightheaded, making it hard to form a clear thought.

 

She had given up any hopes on escaping she had still harbored in the beginning. It looked like Lydia had been right after all. She would die, and Ford would be the one to kill her. All she could do now was try and prolong the torture for as long as she possibly could, hopefully giving Derek a shot at escaping the same fate.

 

Ford, Jack, Roberto and various other men and women still came in regular intervals, beating her up and cutting her with knives and injecting her with foxglove. She found a way to bear the pain by simply focusing on breathing and retreating to her memories, memories of happy times with her family and with Derek.

 

Skye could tell that the Guardians were growing frustrated when even after they had tortured her until she had screamed herself hoarse, she was still taunting them. But she had been right – as long as she was still defying Ford, he kept going. He wanted to break her before he brought Derek in as a last resort, shattering her completely. As long as she refused to break, his ego wouldn’t allow him to stop.

 

It was that thought that kept her going – that thought and the memories that reminded what she was doing this for.

 

_The night was cold and clear._

_Once again, the nightmares hadn’t let her sleep and she had decided to go to the spot in the forest that she had begun to think of as Derek’s and her spot. He was there too, his back turned to her, but she could tell he’d heard her approach. Silently, she sat down next to him._

_For a while, neither of them spoke, then Derek asked quietly: “You okay?”_

_“Yes.” Skye replied, and it wasn’t even a lie. She really was okay now that she was here, Derek’s reassuring presence right next to her. “Are you?” she added._

_“Yes.” he echoed._

_Again, silence settled over them until Skye said: “I almost killed someone at the supermarket today.”_

_Derek looked at her with an amused glint in his eyes. “How come?” he asked._

_She gave him a smile before starting to tell the story. “Well, I was going to buy my favorite ice-cream. But there was only one box left and this stupid asshole got there first. I tried reasoning with him, because I totally needed that ice-cream more than him, but he was stubborn. He insisted that first come, first serve. So… I briefly considered drawing my gun on him.”_

_Derek was grinning now. “I assume you didn’t do it. I think I’d have heard about a gun-wielding lunatic committing felonies for ice-cream.” She giggled. “You’re right, I didn’t. Sometimes I can actually be responsible.”_

_He snorted. “Yeah, right.” he mumbled under his breath before asking: “But why did you even bring a gun to the supermarket in the first place? Were you expecting someone to rob you of your ice-cream?”_

_She shrugged. “You never know.” she said. “People can get really violent when it comes to food. I’m not the only one who would kill for ice-cream.” She thought of her brother, Jace, who’d had even more of a sweet tooth than her, and felt a sharp sting of pain._

_Derek’s voice snapped her out of it. “So you didn’t get your ice-cream. That explains why you’re so sulky today.”_

_Skye shot him a look, feigning outrage. “I’m not sulky!” she insisted before adding: “And I did get the ice-cream, by the way. I’m not that easily beaten. I snatched it out his cart when he wasn’t looking.”_

_He actually laughed at this, and it was the first time she had really seen him laugh. He looked beautiful when he did and suddenly she thought that maybe, just maybe, she was falling in love with him._

The feeling of a knife cutting along her collarbone tore her out of the memory and she gasped in pain.

 

She gritted her teeth, summoning up the strength to tell whoever was torturing her now – Jack, it appeared, though her eyes wouldn’t really focus – to fuck off. She could still see the picture of Derek laughing in her mind, and that gave her something to hold on to.


	46. Forty-Five

A scream greeted Leon when he entered the house.

 

Even though it was muffled by the massive basement door, it still made his ears ring. It was full of agony and Leon wondered what they could possibly be doing to Skye down there to make her scream like that. He felt nauseous only imagining the kind of torture.

 

Ford next to him only grinned. “I think Roberto’s down there with her right now.” he said. “It sounds like he’s having fun.”

 

Leon forced himself to smile, even though he would have rather wiped the grin off of Ford’s face. “Sounds like it.” he agreed. “How long have we had her now?”

 

The older man’s grin fell. “Almost two days, and she still hasn’t broken. To be honest, I’ve never seen anyone withstand our torture that long. Usually they’re begging for death by now.” There was a sadistic glint in his eyes when he added: “But she’ll come around. You know I like a challenge.”

 

It sickened Leon to hear him talk about her and all the others that way, like they were just animals he was hunting and torturing and killing for sport. It was wrong, fundamentally wrong, Leon knew that, but he also knew that he had to play along if he wanted his plan to have even the slightest chance of success. So he gave Ford a grin, even though it felt like a grimace.

 

Before he could think of anything to answer, Ford asked: “Have you had the pleasure yet? I know you have quite the grudge against her for slaughtering your unit like that.”

 

Leon shook his head, not for the first time baffled that Ford hadn’t caught up to his act yet. “No. I figured those who have lost family members should go first, like Jack and Roberto.”

 

Ford gave him an appreciative glance and patted his shoulder. Leon had to keep himself from flinching away. “Very thoughtful of you, Leon.” he said. “But they’ve had plenty of opportunities. Why don’t you go down there this afternoon? I’ve got something special planned for this evening, but before that, you should be able to get some time alone with her.”

 

His mind started buzzing with excitement. A few minutes alone with Skye were all he needed, and if Ford had something planned for her they would likely be alone in the basement, giving Skye the perfect opportunity to go through with his plan. “If you don’t mind my asking, what do you have planned?” he asked, trying to sound only mildly interested.

 

A predatory grin spread over Ford’s face and Leon knew what he was going to say before he did. “Well, she’s a pretty little thing. I might as well have some fun with her while she’s still warm. Just me and her, all night long.”

 

Leon felt like he was going to throw up. He tuned out Ford’s voice as the man started raving in detail about what he was going to do to Skye and silently started praying that his plan would work out, because otherwise he was pretty sure she wouldn’t live to see the next day.

 

* * *

 

 

Skye was roused from her unconsciousness by someone grabbing her shoulders – not roughly, like she was used to by now, but gently.

 

“Skye?” a voice said. “Can you hear me? You need to wake up.”

 

She blinked. Her vision was blurry and trying to focus made her head throb with pain, but she could make out a young man’s face in front of her. She didn’t think she’d seen him down here before, though he seemed vaguely familiar. He looked younger than the rest, not much older than twenty.

 

“Can you hear me?” he asked again. “Yes.” she whispered, her voice hoarse from all the screaming. For some reason, he looked relieved.

 

“I need you to scream.” he said. Skye looked at him in confusion. This wasn’t how this usually worked. If they wanted her to scream, they just hurt her until she did. They didn’t politely tell her to. “Why?” she asked.

 

The man sighed. He seemed exasperated. “Because I’m trying to help you, but they need to think I’m torturing you or they’ll come down here to check why it’s so silent.”

 

Even in her messed up state, she realized that there were two options. Either he was lying, in which case she would be screaming in pain in a few minutes anyway, or he was telling the truth and really trying to help, in which case doing what he said was the best thing she could do. So she took a deep breath, and the pain shooting through her chest was already enough to make a strangled scream slip out of her mouth.

 

For a moment, the effort of screaming was enough to make her black out, and when she regained consciousness, the man was still in front of her. “That was good.” he said, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Now you need to listen to me carefully.”

 

He reached out to her and Skye flinched instinctively, expecting him to hurt her after all, but instead he slipped something into her hand. She gasped in surprise when she realized what it was. A knife, tiny enough to fit into her palm but razor-sharp.

 

He started talking before she could even process what this meant. “Ford will come down here this evening. He’s planning on raping you.” His voice was dry, matter-of-factly, like he had practiced this speech many times, but Skye couldn’t help but shiver. Ford’s hands all over her body, not cutting and punching but touching and groping, and him inside of her, forcing herself on her – it was one of the worst things she could imagine.

 

The man kept talking and she did her best to pay attention in spite of the vivid images inside of her mind. “He will most likely untie you, so that’s your shot. Go for the throat. It needs to be a fatal hit. If you only hurt him, there’s no telling what he will to do you.”

 

Skye’s breath hitched in her throat. Was this man really doing what she thought he was doing – giving her a chance at ending this, a chance at killing Victor Ford? He kept going. “The house will be empty, so no one will stop you when you leave. Go north until you hit the road, and then simply keep going until you reach the city. No one will look for you until morning, and if my plan works, no one will look for you afterwards either.”

 

Her heart skipped a beat. He was not only giving her a chance at killing Ford, he was also providing her with an escape plan, and if had understood his last sentence correctly, he was going to try and convince the remaining Scavengers that she was dead so they would stop hunting her. This seemed too good to be true.

 

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she was just dreaming; maybe this was just something her mind had made up to give her hope when there was none. “Why would you help me?” she asked hoarsely.

 

A smile tugged at the man’s lips. “Don’t you remember me?”

 

She snorted, wincing when this made her chest flare up with pain. “No offense, but I can barely remember my own name right now. You seem familiar though.”

 

“My name is Leon.” he said. “I was stationed at a base in Chicago you attacked about three years ago. You killed everyone, but you left me alive.”

 

She remembered now. It had been one of her first hits on a major Guardian base, and it had gone over much more smoothly than she had anticipated. The kid, Leon… she didn’t even really know why she hadn’t killed him. Maybe because he had been so young, maybe because she had seen something in his eyes – something that had convinced her he couldn’t be fundamentally evil. All she knew was that as soon as she had looked at his face, she hadn’t been able to kill him.

 

Still, having been spared when she’d slaughtered all of his colleagues, some of them probably his friends, seemed like an insufficient reason for risking his life to help her. “So you’re helping me because I didn’t kill you?” she asked hoarsely.

 

Leon gave a dry, joyless chuckle. “Well, partly, yes.” he said. “But mostly because you made me realize that what we were doing was wrong. The people we were hunting weren’t monsters, just ordinary people with lives and families and dreams and hopes. I knew then that I had to find a way to end this madness. So I guess me helping you isn’t entirely unselfish.”

 

Her throat felt too tight. All she could manage to say was a barely audible “thank you”.

 

Leon flashed her a sad smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.” he said, already retreating towards the stairs.

 

Halfway up, he turned around again. “Can you do me a favor, Skye?” “Anything.”

 

His face darkened and suddenly he looked years older. “Scream again.”


	47. Forty-Six

Skye didn’t know how long she waited.

 

It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours; there was no way to know. Whenever she threatened to slip back into unconsciousness, she grabbed the knife in her hand tighter until it cut into her palm and the sharp pain cleared her mind. She needed to stay awake. She only had one chance and she needed to be prepared when it came.

 

The sound of the opening door made her heart beat faster. A sharp sense of clarity took over her, drowning out the pain and the drowsiness. Here it was – her chance at finally avenging her family while simultaneously saving Derek’s and her own life. It felt almost unreal.

 

Ford descended the steps, slowly, as if he was taunting her. She knew it was him even before he stepped into the circle illuminated by the lightbulb. It was as if his mere presence made the room even smaller, shrinking until it contained nothing but the two of them, only inches apart as he stood before her.

 

“Hello, Skye.” he said. “Did you miss me?”

 

His movement was too fast for her to see it coming. The syringe pierced her neck and she gasped in shock. She could feel the poison making its way through her veins, the burning sensation even worse than all the other times he’d injected her. Already it was making her lightheaded, the pain worsening and her vision fading at the edges.

 

 _You have to stay focused,_ she told herself. _Do it for them. For mum, dad, Jace, Derek. You can do it. It’s almost over._

 

Their names gave her something to hold on to. She kept her eyes open, staring back at Ford without batting an eyelash. “Actually, I did.” she said hoarsely. “It was getting boring alone down here. You never fail to make me laugh with your ridiculous attempts at breaking me.”

 

He growled and Skye felt a brief rush of satisfaction. She needed to make him angry. If he was angry, he was much more likely to get sloppy and make a mistake, giving her a chance to do what she was aching to do.

 

“Oh, trust me, darling, I’ll give you entertainment.” he drawled. “All night long. I’ll show you just how amusing I can be.” He reached forward and touched her cheek, purposefully tracing his finger along the cut Roberto had left. Skye hissed in pain even as she felt a wave of nausea. Her fist clenched tighter around the knife. The pain as it dug deeper into her palm was a silent promise. _Soon._

“I doubt you’ll be able to go all night.” she whispered. “You look like you’ll be done after five minutes.”

 

The sound of his hand hitting her cheek echoed through the room. The sheer force of his hit slammed her head to the side and once again, she tasted blood. She spit it out and laughed, even though this made her feel like she would rip herself apart.

“So this is how you do it, Victor?” she asked. “You beat them into submission until they’re too frightened to criticize your performance? Sorry, but that is not going to work with me.”

 

Another hit, this time to her stomach. Skye could feel her stab wound starting to bleed again and for a few seconds, she thought she was going to pass out. “You think this is a game?” Ford snarled. “You think you can provoke me into messing up? I never mess up, stupid girl! I am the leader of the Guardians and I slaughtered your people! I won the war, and you don’t stand a chance against me!”

 

There was a manic glint in his eyes and Skye gave him what she hoped was a wide, cocky grin, though it also could’ve been a grimace of pain. “Actually, I do think this is a game. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’m winning.”

 

She could see the moment he snapped in his eyes. He dove towards her and tore at the restraints binding her to the chair until they loosened, not even bothering to check her hands. Her words had done exactly what she had intended – making him blind with rage.

 

He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her forward, throwing her onto the ground so violently she saw stars. When her vision cleared again, he was straddling her, pinning her to the ground with his sheer weight. Her body was burning with pain, but she barely felt it. Adrenaline was rushing through her, making everything feel like it was happening in slow motion.

 

Ford leaned down until she could feel his hot breath on her face. “You’re going to regret this.” he growled.

 

Skye smiled. “I don’t think so.” she said. Then she reached out and slit his throat in one swift motion.

 

His eyes widened in shock as blood started gushing from his neck. “You…” he gasped before his body went limp and he collapsed on top of her. She barely managed to push him off of her. “Me.” she agreed.

 

For a few moments, she simply lay like that, breathing heavily. She couldn’t quite believe that this had really just happened, that Victor Ford, the man who had killed her family, was really dead, even though his body was lying right next to her and she was covered in his blood. Then her instincts and years of training kicked in, telling her to get up and get the hell out of here.

 

She scrambled to her feet. Her world was swaying and her legs would barely support her weight, but she managed to stay upright by holding on to the wall. _You can do this, Skye,_ she told herself. _The hard part is already over._

 

Slowly, painfully, she made it up the stairs. Every step seemed like a mountain to climb, and when she finally reached the door, her body was ablaze with pain. She forced herself to take slow, even breaths in spite of the searing pain in her chest.

 

The door gave in surprisingly easy and she stumbled into what seemed like an ordinary hallway. She didn’t bother looking around. Instead, she made straight for what she supposed was the front door.

 

Leon had been right. No one was here, or at least no one stopped her. The door wasn’t locked either. Maybe Ford had been just too damn sure of himself, or maybe this was another courtesy from Leon. Either way, the fresh, cool air that hit her when she opened it was the best thing she had felt in days.

 

She stumbled down the front steps and fell, scraping up her hands and knees in the process. The pain barely registered. It was nothing compared to what the rest of her body felt like.

 

Where to now? Leon had said north, she dimly remembered, but she had no idea where north was and so she simply went straight ahead, holding on to trees for balance. Somewhere far away, she could hear a wolf howl.

 

Her vision was dimming, fading at the edges. She went on blindly until her knees gave in and she hit the ground, stars exploding in front of her eyes. The ground was hard and cold, not the soft forest floor she had been walking on. Was this the street Leon had told her about?

 

She tried to get up again, but the muscles in her legs were spasming uncontrollably, making it impossible to even move. She knew what was happening. The foxglove was doing its cruel and deadly work.

 

Her lungs were seizing up now too. She gasped for air in vain, already feeling her vision blacken. Her heart was racing in her chest, fighting against the inevitable, struggling to keep her alive for as long as it possibly could.

 

Skye knew she was dying. Lydia had been right after all. She wouldn’t reach the city Leon had talked about, but at least her family was finally avenged. At least Derek was safe.

 

Suddenly, the pain was gone. She felt weightless.

 

 _So this is it,_ she thought. _This is what dying feels like._

 

She had never really believed in an afterlife, but now she wondered if she would see her family again. If maybe, one day, she would see Derek again. She hoped so.

 

 _I’m sorry, Derek,_ she thought. _I loved you. I’m sorry that wasn’t enough._

She closed her eyes, stopped gasping for air, stopped fighting it.

One last, stuttering heartbeat –

 

and everything

 

ended.


	48. Forty-Seven

Savannah leaned her head against the cool glass, watching the world pass by on the other side of the window.

 

She felt hollow and like she was going to burst at the same time. Her head was filled with memories of all the things Raina had made her do in the five years she had been part of the Scavengers.

 

There had been a girl, not even eighteen yet. Savannah had tortured her without batting an eyelash, making her live through her worst fears until the girl had been nothing more than a broken mess on the floor, ready to betray everyone and everything she cared about just to make it stop. To this day, she didn’t even know her name.

 

There had been a man, a father. She had made him hallucinate his kids die in front of him and had then watched when Raina had made that hallucination reality. This man’s name she knew – Jay, though she had always referred to him as the Captain. She wondered what he would do now, where he would go, because there was no one left of his family.

 

There had been a boy. She could still hear his screams when she closed her eyes, screams of pure agony as she had sent poison surging through his veins. He had died slowly and painfully, his brother watching. His name had been Kyle. His brother’s name had been Dean, a powerful British Alpha. Dean had slashed his own throat before Raina could touch him and make him hers. After that, she hadn’t made that mistake again.

 

Savannah felt like she was going to throw up. She was a druid, a wise oak, supposed to help and heal, but all she’d done was hurt and kill.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Eli’s voice made her flinch and she turned to face him. He was eyeing her, worry and sympathy in his eyes. Even though he had only been with the Scavengers for a year, he knew exactly what she was going through.

 

“Yeah.” she said, the slight tremor in her voice giving away that she really wasn’t. “Just keep driving.” Eli knew better than to press on.

 

She didn’t know when she and Eli had grown so close. It wasn’t exactly like working for Raina gave you a lot of free time – she wasn’t sure if there had ever been a time when she had really been free – but she hadn’t always controlled her soldiers’ actions either, and somehow Savannah had found herself drawn herself to the young werewolf.

 

They had given each other something to hold on to, something good in the middle of all this violence, and the few hours she had been able to steal with Eli had always managed to make her feel like she could be herself again.

 

After Raina had died and her influence with her, Savannah had briefly thought that what she and Eli had would end too, but when she looked at him now, she still felt the same way she always had – like she was coming home.

 

Eli hit the brakes.

 

Savannah was thrown forward, the seatbelt cutting into her shoulder. The car swerved a little and for a moment she thought they were going to hit a tree, but then the tires gripped and they stopped. The smell of burned rubber filled the air.

 

“What the hell, Eli?” she asked as soon as her shock had ebbed down a little.

 

He simply gestured towards the road and when Savannah followed his gaze, she knew exactly why he had stopped. Someone was lying in the middle of the road, completely motionless and covered in something that she was pretty sure was blood. She was out of the car immediately.

 

It was a young woman, her clothes torn and her body covered in cuts and bruises. “Maybe she was hit by a car?” Eli suggested, stepping up behind her.

 

Savannah shook her head as she noticed the stab wound in the woman’s abdomen and the clean, sharp cuts along her collarbones. “No.” she said. “Those are not the kind of wounds that come from a car accident. She’s been tortured.”

 

Her gaze wandered up to the woman’s face and her heart skipped a beat. Her face was disfigured by two identical cuts on her cheeks and various bruises, but still there was no mistaking her. “Eli, it’s Skye.” Savannah gasped.

 

He crouched down next to her, cocking his head as if he was listening intently. A string of curses left his lips. “Her heart’s not beating.” Savannah reached out to touch Skye’s skin. It wasn’t cold yet. She couldn’t have been lying here for long. “She’s still warm.” she said. “Get me my bag from the car. Maybe I can save her.”

 

Eli obeyed immediately, hurrying towards the car to get it. Savannah carefully took a look at Skye’s wounds. Some of them looked like they were days old and should’ve long been healed, so there was only one possible explanation – foxglove poisoning. And probably a pretty severe one, because while Skye’s wounds were extensive, they wouldn’t have been enough to make her heart stop on their own.

 

Eli returned, holding a big black bag. Savannah grabbed it and began digging through it for the bottle of golden liquid Raina had always made her keep on her at all times. She found it after a few seconds. It was laburnum extract, a powerful remedy for gifted people, strengthening them and accelerating their healing. She could only hope that it would be enough to save Skye.

 

She took out a syringe and filled it with the liquid, injecting it directly into Skye’s neck. Nothing happened. “Eli, start CPR.” she said.

 

He pressed his hands to Skye’s chest and started pushing, blowing air into her lungs between compressions. Savannah could hear ribs crack, but that was the least of their problems right now. Still, Skye lay motionless.

 

Savannah grabbed another syringe and filled it again. She emptied the whole thing into Skye’s bloodstream, directly followed by another dose.

 

“Come on, Skye.” she whispered. “Come on now. You have to fight.”

 

She thought of Derek’s face when they had threatened to hurt Skye. The utter horror and pain on it had made the look on his face after she had forced him to see all the people for whose deaths he blamed himself seem almost peaceful. Derek was another name on the list of all the people she had hurt, and she felt the fierce urge to make sure he didn’t lose Skye too, to at least make up for some of the pain she had caused.

 

“Just breathe, Skye.” she begged. “Just breathe. You can do it, come on.”

 

Above them, the waning moon shone bright.

 

* * *

 

 

Lydia awoke with a scream on her lips.

 

Her room felt like a graveyard, cold arms wrapping around her and the breath of death on her neck. She was trembling.

 

And then something happened that had never happened before. The banshee screamed, but no one died.

 

Instead, a heart started beating again.

 

* * *

 

 

Leon was the first one to arrive at the house in the morning.

 

He found Ford’s body in the basement, his throat slashed and his eyes endlessly staring without seeing anything. In death, he looked almost human, not like the monster he had been.

 

He dragged him upstairs, soaked his body in gasoline and set it on fire. Then he watched from the outside as the fire took over the house as well, burning away every evidence of the horrors that had happened there. The flames seemed to warm him up from the inside out, speaking to him. _It’s over, Leon. It’s finally over._

There was no sign of Skye except for a few bloody footprints leading into the forest. He wiped them away to make sure the others wouldn’t be able to follow her. When they arrived, he told them what had happened. Their reactions were a mixture of shock and anger, but he thought that he saw in relief in some of the faces.

 

“If Skye isn’t dead already, she will be within the day.” he said. “The dose of foxglove she received is absolutely lethal. There is no point in continuing to hunt her.”

 

They all agreed, even Jack and Roberto, whose grudge against Skye had been the most personal. Ford had been the one to unite them, to stabilize them and lead them towards a goal. Without him, things were already beginning to fall apart. Not long now and the Guardians would be no more.

 

Honestly, what he had told the others might’ve been the truth. He had seen gifted people die of lesser doses than what Skye had received. But she was stronger than everyone else he knew, a fighter. Maybe she would make it. He hoped she would.

 

Leon turned back once again when he left. The house was still burning, bright glowing orange against the morning sky. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

 

It was over.


	49. Forty-Eight

A knock on his door tore Derek from his uneasy sleep.

 

A quick glance at his phone told him that it was almost midnight. He gave a low, angry growl as he got up from the couch and headed towards the door. He was barely getting any sleep as it was, because whenever he closed his eyes, memories and nightmares alike haunted him. Whoever was depriving him of the few hours of sleep he actually got was going to feel the whole extent of his anger.

 

“What…” He stopped talking mid-sentence when he realized who was standing in front of him.

 

It was Savannah, her dark hair disheveled and hands covered in something that looked an awful lot like blood. Eli was standing behind her, holding a limp body in his arms. Derek took one look and didn’t even need to smell her to know who it was. _Skye._

In a matter of seconds, he had Savannah pinned against the wall, his hand wrapped around her neck. “What did you do to her?” he growled. Savannah gasped, but didn’t fight back as she said: “We saved her life.”

 

“Liar!” Derek snarled. His mind was burning with anger and worry, making it hard to form a clear thought. He could smell blood on her – Skye’s blood. Savannah’s mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. “I’m not lying. Listen to my heart. We found her in the middle of the road, not breathing. I gave her something to get her heart beating again and then we took her here. I’m telling the truth, Derek.”

 

He forced himself to take a deep breath. Savannah’s heartbeat was slightly elevated, but steady, and even though Eli seemed tense and alert, he didn’t make any move to attack. Derek’s focus shifted to Skye. Her clothes were torn, there were cuts all over her body and he could hear broken bones grinding against each other whenever she took a shallow breath. Her heartbeat was faint and irregular.

 

His anger vanished as quickly as it had risen and he let Savannah go, hurrying towards Eli instead. The other werewolf let go of Skye without protest and Derek gathered her into his arms, pulling her against his chest. She was completely unresponsive.

 

“What happened to her?” he asked. His voice was trembling. “Why isn’t she healing?”

 

“We think Ford got her.” Savannah replied quietly. “He must have poisoned her with foxglove. That’s why she’s not healing.”

 

Derek’s eyes widened in shock. “Ford?” he gasped. “But how did he find her?”

 

Savannah bit her lip. “Raina called him. I meant to tell Skye, but after the fight, she was gone so quickly I didn’t have a chance. I’m sorry.”

 

He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. All he could feel was an intense, burning worry. Too many people he loved he had held like this, motionless, barely breathing. His chest felt too tight. “Will she be okay?” he asked hoarsely.

 

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Savannah admitted. “It all depends on whether her body is able to fight the poison. As long as it’s in her system, she won’t be able to heal. And I’m afraid if she doesn’t start healing in the next few days, her injuries will kill her.”

 

Derek felt panic building up inside of him. He couldn’t lose Skye, not like this. He couldn’t add her name to the long list of people that he’d loved and that had died. Paige, his family, Erica, Boyd – all of them gone now. Losing Skye too would break him. He held her closer and focused on the sound of her heart, as if he could keep it beating by sheer power of will.

 

“Is there anything you can do?” It sounded almost like he was begging. Just a few hours ago, he would’ve never asked Savannah or Eli for help, the memories of what they’d done to him still too fresh in his mind – even though it technically hadn’t been them – but now he would probably ask Kate herself for help if it meant saving Skye’s life.

 

Savannah seemed hesitant. “I can keep giving her laburnum. It might strengthen her enough to fight the poison off. But…” He interrupted her. “Do it.”

 

She shot him a look full of sympathy. “There’s no guarantee that it’ll work.” she said gently.

 

Derek gritted his teeth. “I don’t care. Just do it. Save her.”

 

For a brief moment, neither of them moved. Then Savannah nodded. “Okay. Put her on the bed. Eli, get my bag from the car.” The blond werewolf vanished silently and Derek did as she said, gently placing Skye on the bed. She looked impossibly pale against the dark covers.

 

He grabbed her hand. “She’s in pain.” he murmured as black veins started to appears on his arm and he took as much of her pain as he could possibly bear. Savannah’s face darkened. “I know.” she said. “It’s the foxglove. First it simply shuts down her powers, then it stops her from healing and then it induces muscle spasms that gradually worsen until she’s basically suffocating. It’s probably best she’s unconscious right now.”

 

Derek flinched at her vivid description. Skye was suffering and he couldn’t do anything about it except taking away a fraction of her pain. He hated being so helpless, hated seeing people he loved suffer while not being able to do anything.

 

Eli returned, holding a huge dark bag. Savannah grabbed it immediately and pulled out a bottle filled with a clear golden liquid. She gave Skye a shot right into the neck before pulling out another bottle, this one filled with a clear liquid.

 

“This is a muscle relaxant.” she explained. “I usually use it to paralyze people. It might counteract the foxglove’s effects and help with the pain, but it has a tendency to slow the breathing, and hers is already critically slow. It might induce respiratory failure.” She turned towards Derek. “It’s your call. Do you want to risk it?”

 

Derek looked down at Skye. He could hear her labored breathing and even though she was unconscious, her face was contorted in pain. He clenched and then unclenched his fists, forcing himself to take slow, even breaths. “Give it to her.” he said, hoping like hell he had made the right decision.

 

Savannah simply nodded and injected Skye with the drug. Almost immediately, Skye’s whole body seemed to relax a little and her face softened. She was still breathing. Derek let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

 

“All we can do now is wait.” Savannah said. For the first time since she had shown up at his loft, Derek took a good look at her. She looked exhausted, and so did Eli. “Thank you.” he said quietly, directed at the both of them.

 

It was Eli who answered, the hint of sad smile on his lips. “You know, we’re not bad people. We’re trying to make up for what Raina made us do.” There was a haunted look in his eyes and Derek realized how terrible this must be for them – like waking up from nightmare only to realize that it had really happened. All of the anger he had still harbored towards them against better knowledge seemed to fade slowly.

 

“I’m sorry about beating you up.” he said, a little reluctantly.

 

Eli gave him a lopsided grin and the tension in the room seemed to ease a little. “Thanks, but I barely felt it. You really have to work on your right hook, man.”

 

Savannah chimed in, a look of fond annoyance on her face. “Strong words for someone who was whining about his headache for almost the whole day.” She turned towards Derek. “Your right hook is fine.” she assured him.

 

He couldn’t bring himself to smile, but suddenly he found himself thinking that he might actually like these two.


	50. Forty-Nine

There was pain when Skye woke up.

 

Huh. If this was heaven, it sure sucked, because she could still feel her whole chest light up whenever she took a shallow breath. The spot just above her hip where Ford had stabbed her was throbbing with pain and the cuts all over her body were burning like fire.

 

There was something wrapped around her hand – no, someone. Someone was holding her hand, someone warm and familiar. She also wasn’t tied to the chair anymore but was lying on something soft and comfortable, and that was when the memories hit her.

 

Leon, the knife he had given her, slashing Ford’s throat and then her frantic escape, stumbling blindly through the woods. She had been so sure she would die out there, alone in the middle of nowhere, but maybe she hadn’t. Maybe someone had actually found her and gotten her to safety. The thought seemed too good to be true.

 

Her eyelids felt ten times heavier than she was used to and it took almost all her strength to get them to open. The light that hit her eyes was way too bright and they fluttered shut again immediately.

 

“Skye? Can you hear me?” a woman’s voice asked. She had an accent and seemed vaguely familiar, but Skye couldn’t really place her.

 

“She opened her eyes.” the woman said, quieter this time and evidently speaking to someone else. Skye opened her eyes again, blinking against the light and this time actually managing to keep them open.

 

A face was hovering above her, framed by long black hair. It was probably the woman who had spoken and Skye felt like she should know her, but she couldn’t attach a name to her face.

 

The woman smiled. “Welcome back, Skye.” she said.

 

Skye forced herself to take a breath, even though it hurt. “Am I dead?” she whispered. Her voice was barely audible, but the woman’s smile fell and she shook her head. “No. But you had us worried for a while.” _Us? Who was us?_

She cleared her throat, trying to ask what had happened, but all that came out was a dry cough that made her feel like she was going to tear herself in half. “Don’t try to speak.” the woman said, worry marking her features. “Your body’s still healing. Take it slow.”

 

Skye knew she should follow the woman’s advice, but there was one question she still needed to ask, the most important question. There was only one reason she was still alive, one reason she had held on for as long as she had, one reason why she had actually managed to kill Ford and escape. She needed to know if he was okay. “Derek?” she managed to press out in spite of the pain.

 

The hand holding hers held her tighter. “I’m here.” an all too familiar voice said. “Everything’s alright. You’re safe now, Skye.”

 

She almost sobbed in relief. There were so many things she needed to tell him, but when she tried to take another breath, her lungs seemed to seize up inside of her. She desperately gasped for air, making her chest feel like it was being lit on fire. “Can’t… breathe.” she choked out. “Hurts.”

 

Derek’s hand around hers tightened once again and the pain eased a little, but she still felt like she was suffocating. The woman spoke again, almost too quiet for Skye to hear. “It’s too early for her to be awake. She needs more time to heal.”

 

Something pierced Skye’s neck and then she heard the woman’s voice again, closer to her now. “I’ve given you something to help you sleep.” she said. “Just breathe, Skye. You’ll be fine.”

 

She wanted to protest, wanted to tell her that she couldn’t go to sleep now, that she needed to tell Derek that it was over and Ford was dead and she loved him, but all that came out was a whimper. Derek seemed to have understood her regardless because he said: “I’ll be here when you wake up, Skye. I promise. Just close your eyes.”

 

Her eyes fluttered shut and she sank into the darkness once again.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek couldn’t even begin to describe the relief he was feeling.

 

Skye had woken up – just for a couple of minutes, but that was already more than he had dared to hope for – and her wounds were finally healing. The shallow cuts and bruises were already completely gone, the stab wound was only a faint pink scar and he couldn’t hear the unsettling sound of bone grinding against bone anymore whenever she took a breath. She looked much more peaceful too – like she was simply sleeping, not being kept in a state of unconsciousness by Savannah’s countless potions.

 

For the last three days since Eli and Savannah had brought her here, Derek had barely left Skye’s side. He had been afraid that if he did, she would simply stop breathing and he would lose her. Just yesterday, after he had been awake for over forty-eight hours and Savannah had attempted to get him to go to sleep multiple times, Eli had finally convinced him to get a few hours of sleep on the couch, promising to listen to Skye’s breathing the whole time and to wake him if anything should change.

 

Derek felt a deep, overwhelming gratitude for the both of them. Without them, Skye would be dead, but that wasn’t the only thing – they had kept him company during the long hours of hoping and dreading, had quietly assured him that she would be alright and had subtly tried to give him a distraction by telling him stories from their past that did not involve the Scavengers. There was no trace in them of the people who had tortured him, and he thought that he might actually call them his friends someday.

 

He knew now that Eli had been a wolf for only a little over a year, that Savannah was from a Scottish family of druids and that they were hopelessly in love with each other, even though neither of the would admit it. In turn, he had told him about Scott and the rest of the pack and about how Skye and he had met when she had saved him from an Omega.

 

Eli had laughed at that. “Are you sure you didn’t lose on purpose so you had an excuse to get to know her?” he had asked. “Because I can’t really believe you could kick mine and Dmitri’s ass but lose to an Omega.”

 

Derek liked them, both of them, and he was actually a little sad when Savannah administered what would be Skye’s last dose of laburnum. After they’d left, he would likely never see them again.

 

“That’s it.” Savannah said. “She’ll be alright. Her wounds are as good as healed. She’ll probably wake up some time later today.”

 

A sincere, wide smile spread over Derek’s face. “Thank you.” he said, not for the first time in the last few days. “Both of you. Without you, Skye would be…” His voice cracked. Even though she was fine now, he still couldn’t speak about the very real possibility of her death he had had to face.  

 

Eli gave him his usual, lopsided grin. “No problem, man.” he said. “Sav did all the work anyway. I just do what she tells me to.” Savannah smiled as well. Her smiles were rarer than Eli’s and not quite as careless and Derek could tell that she had seen horrible things, probably more so than Eli. After all, she had been with the Scavengers longer than him.

 

“You don’t.” she said. “That’s the whole problem.”

 

Eli snickered and she turned towards Derek. “Anyway, there’s something else.” she said.

 

Derek tensed a little. His mind started making up countless horrible scenarios in which Skye would die after all or she would wake up and not remember him. _Get a grip, Derek,_ he told himself. _She already said Skye was going to be okay._ “What is it?” he asked curiously.

 

“Well…” She seemed to hesitate a little, and when she continued, her words took him completely by surprise. “Eli and I need an Alpha. We know killing Dmitri made you one, and we know you don’t have a pack. I guess we just want you to consider the idea of… acquiring some pack members – specifically, us.”

 

Derek just stared at her, flabbergasted. “You… what?” he asked quietly.

 

Savannah smiled. “Just think about it.” she said. “You know how to reach us. We’ll be around for a while.” For a moment she just stared at him with a look he couldn’t quite interpret, then she said: “Goodbye, Derek. Take care of yourself.”

 

And with that, she was out of the door, Eli trailing behind her.


	51. Fifty

Skye awoke gloriously and blissfully pain-free.

 

For a while, she simply reveled in the feeling of being able to take slow, even breaths without feeling the burning pain, then it occurred to her that maybe she should find out where she actually was. She opened her eyes, something that took a lot less strength than she had expected.

 

Light was flooding the room and she blinked a few times before she could see her surroundings clearly. She was in Derek’s loft, lying in his bed right next to the giant window, and that was when she remembered. He had been there when she had first woken up, promising to still be here when she woke up again, and there had also been a woman who she hadn’t been able to name but who she was sure she knew.

 

Skye pictured her face again and realized that it had been the black-haired woman who had been part of the Scavengers. What had she been doing here?

 

She decided to worry about that question later. Right now, what was troubling her more was that no one was holding her hand anymore and Derek was nowhere to be seen.

 

Panic started building up inside of her. Maybe he hadn’t been here at all. Maybe Ford’s people had gotten to him after all and her brain had just made everything else up to give her a few moments of peace. Maybe she hadn’t actually escaped and this was just another way of torturing her.

 

Her dreadful thoughts were interrupted when suddenly the sound of rushing water that she hadn’t even realized had been there stopped and the door to the bathroom opened. Derek emerged, not wearing a shirt and his hair still wet from his shower.

 

Skye acted without thinking. She jumped out of bed, stumbling a little but managing to regain her balance, and threw herself at Derek. He made a small sound of surprise and barely managed to catch her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

 

Somewhere above her, she could hear him chuckle. “I’ve missed you too.” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

 

A dry sob forced its way out of Skye’s mouth and then the tears she had held back for so long started flowing. She cried for everything she had lost when that bomb had exploded, for everything she had sacrificed to get to Ford and for the fact that it was now finally, finally over.

 

She cried and cried and cried while Derek held her, gently running his hand up and down her back and murmuring soothing words of which she only understood half. His familiar scent filled the air around her and finally, after everything she’d been through, she felt really, truly safe.

 

When her crying eventually subsided, she pulled away a few inches so she could look at him. The words were hovering at the tip of her tongue and she had to say them, because she knew she would regret it forever if she didn’t. “I love you.” she whispered.

 

She could feel Derek tense. His eyes widened with shock and disbelief as he looked at her. “You… love me?” he repeated as if he couldn’t quite believe what she had just said. His hands were still resting on her waist and her skin prickled where she could feel his warmth through her shirt.

 

“Yes.” she said, her voice trembling a little. “I’m sorry I just left without saying anything, but I wanted to protect you. I knew Ford would eventually find me and I couldn’t… I couldn’t put you in danger. I love you, Derek. So much.”

 

Before she could say anything more, his lips were on hers. He pulled her flush against him and kissed her like his life depended on it, lips hungry and demanding. Skye felt herself melt under his touch, all the memories very far away for a few sweet moments. When he pulled away, they were both out of breath. “I love you too.” he said, his face still only inches from hers. He sounded very vulnerable when he added: “Please don’t ever do that do me again. I thought I would lose you. I can’t…” His voice cracked and he turned his gaze away as if he was embarrassed.

 

Skye kissed him again, soft and slow and gentle this time. “I’m sorry.” she whispered against his lips. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought I could keep you safe.”

 

Derek’s hand brushed her cheek, caressing her as if he still couldn’t really believe she was here with him. When he spoke, his voice was deep and earnest. “Tell me what happened.”

 

She did. She told him about how Lydia had told her about her vision, about how she had decided to leave directly after the fight, about how Ford had caught her when she’d stopped for gas. She told him about the waterboarding and the cuts and the beatings. Derek’s jaw clenched when she described the torture to him, even though she was downplaying it.

 

Then she told him about Leon, how she had spared him all those years ago and how this had apparently made him turn against his own people. She told him how Leon had helped her, how she had killed Ford and had then run as fast and far as she possibly could until she had finally passed out.

 

“I don’t know what happened after that.” she admitted. “I was sure I would die out there, and next thing I remember is waking up here.”

 

They were sitting on the couch now, each holding a cup of coffee that Derek had made halfway through her story. “Eli and Savannah found you.” he explained. “You weren’t breathing. They somehow got your heart beating again and then took you here.”

 

“Eli and Savannah saved me?” Skye asked incredulously. Derek nodded. “Yeah. They also stuck around for a few days to make sure you’d be okay. They’re not such bad guys, actually.”

 

Skye smiled. Derek wasn’t usually the most forgiving type and when he said that they weren’t such bad guys even though they had tortured him – admittedly under Raina’s control – he was basically paying them a huge compliment.

 

Derek hesitated and she could tell that there was something else he wanted to say. “What is it?” she asked. He shot her a strange look.

 

“During the fight against Raina I realized that killing Dmitri made me an Alpha again.” he said. Skye nodded. She remembered his eyes flashing red briefly and the ease with which he had beat the werewolf who had attacked him. Derek continued before she had the chance to say anything. “Well, Eli and Savannah told me they need a pack. They basically asked me to join mine.”

 

Skye just stared at him, trying to stomach this news. “Are you… are considering it?”

 

Derek shrugged. “I don’t know. Honestly, I’m not even sure if I want a pack. I kind of sucked at this whole Alpha thing the first time around.” Pain and guilt filled his eyes as he said this but he didn’t give Skye the chance to say anything. Instead, he added: “But if I decide to do this, to have my own pack again, they are the kind of people I would like to have in it. They are powerful, sure, but mostly because I think I can trust them.”

 

“Even after they tortured you?” The question left Skye’s mouth before she could stop it. She knew it was stupid – nothing of what Eli and Savannah had done while they had been under Raina’s control had been voluntarily – but still she couldn’t shake the image of what Derek had looked like when she’d found him after they had tortured him. She wondered how he could so easily forget that.

 

He shot her a look she couldn’t quite identify, a sad smile on his lips. “Skye, you wouldn’t be alive without them.” he said. “They were here for three days, barely slept, just to make sure you would be okay. I don’t think this is something they would do just because they feel guilty. They’re good people.”

 

Skye suddenly realized that just a few days ago they’d had a similar discussion about Aiden and Ethan, only they had been on opposite sites – and, well, the twins had done everything on their own volition. Derek was right, she knew that. She smiled at him. “Look at you being a softie. I always knew you had it in you.”

 

He chuckled quietly before his face grew serious again. “Yeah, well, like I said, I don’t know yet if I even want to be an Alpha. I just need time to figure it all out.”

 

She leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. “For the record, I think you’d make a great Alpha.” she whispered.


	52. Fifty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some more smut.

They ordered pizza that evening and it made Skye feel strangely nostalgic.

 

She thought of the night after their fight against Hardy, when she had patched Derek up at her apartment and had been desperately trying to keep herself from falling in love with him, even though she had probably already been a goner. Back then, she never would’ve thought that one day she would end up here – next to Derek, with Ford dead and everything looking like it would finally resolve.

 

“You’re staring.” Derek observed, swallowing his bite of pizza. Skye smiled. “Well, maybe I like looking at you. You’re not too hard on the eyes.” He chuckled. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

 

She giggled. “You should be proud of yourself. I don’t give out compliments lightly.” His face split in a wide grin and gave a mock gasp of surprise. “Words cannot describe how deeply honored I feel.” he assured her.

 

Skye leaned forward to smack him against the arm, but he caught her wrist mid-motion and pulled her towards him so she was sitting on his lap. Whatever she had meant to say vanished from her head and her throat suddenly felt very dry. She wanted him, more than ever. “Kiss me.” she whispered hoarsely.

 

Derek pulled her down into a deep, fervent kiss, the pizza on the table completely forgotten. His hand wandered down, cupping her ass, and she could feel him hardening. His erection pressed against her crotch and she moaned quietly.

 

He slowed the kiss, gently nipping at her lower lip. She gave a small sound of protest. “Harder.” she demanded. Derek seemed to hesitate and she pulled away a few inches so she could look at him. “What is it?” she asked.

 

His face contorted in what looked like pain. “It’s just… only yesterday you were on the brink of death.” he murmured, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” _Stupid, beautiful Alpha,_ she thought.

 

“You won’t.” Skye whispered. “I’m fine, Derek, I promise. I want you.”

 

She could see his eyes darken with desire and then he kissed her again, a hard, demanding, take-no-prisoners kiss. A soft sound of satisfaction left her lips and she pressed closer to him, moving her hips along his erection. He gave a strangled moan. “Bed?” he breathed out between kisses. Skye placed a gentle, sweet kiss on his jawline. “Please.” she murmured against his skin. “Your couch is way too small.”

 

Derek rose with her in his arms effortlessly and she hooked her legs around his hips as he carried her over to the bed. He dropped her onto the mattress and was on top of her in a matter of seconds, placing a line of open-mouthed kisses along her neck all the way down to her collarbone. She bit back a moan and tugged at the hem of his shirt impatiently. “Get that off.” she muttered.

 

He chuckled. “Someone’s bossy.” he said quietly, but he obeyed and got rid of his shirt in one swift motion. Skye couldn’t resist running her hands over his muscled torso, reveling in the fact that he was hers. “I love you.” she said quietly, her gaze finding his. He gave her a bright smile. “I love you too.” he said before leaning down to kiss her once again.

 

The kiss didn’t last long, because after only a few seconds Derek pulled away again and said with a smirk on his lips: “Now get that shirt off, because I think I might love you even more when you’re naked.” Skye gave a fake pout. “I feel objectified.” she complained even as she slipped out of her – well, technically Derek’s – shirt.

 

His smirk turned into a soft smile and he leaned down to kiss the spot on her neck that he knew would drive her crazy. She gasped with pleasure. “Don’t worry.” he murmured, his beard rough against her skin. “I’m very much in love with you, not just with your body. Though it is nice to see like you this.”

 

Skye grinned. “Enjoy the view while you can.” she said. “Now it’s my turn.” Then she used his moment of surprise to flip him around so she was sitting on top of him. She could feel his length between her thighs and had to bite back a moan. Derek looked at her from hooded eyes. “I like where this is going.” he said hoarsely.

 

She pressed a finger to his mouth, still smiling. “Hush. From now on, the only words you’re allowed to say are yes, no and harder. Understand?” He simply nodded, eyes fixed on hers as if he feared that if he looked away his composure would shatter. He was breathing heavily.

 

“Good.” Skye whispered. “Pants off.”

 

He wiggled out of his pants while she did the same, unhooking her bra as well so she was only wearing her panties. Derek was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and she felt a rush of love, followed by a hot wave of pleasure as his erection rubbed against her through the thin fabric of her panties.

 

“Touch me.” she demanded. Derek obeyed, his hands and mouth finding her breasts and caressing them until she could feel her insides thrumming with desire. She ran one hand down into his boxers, grabbing his cock and squeezing a little. He let out a sharp gasp of pleasure. “Skye…”

 

She silenced him with a kiss. “Wrong word.” she breathed, playfully biting down on his lip. “Do you want to be inside of me?” “Yes.” he squeezed out, eyes half closed and dark with desire.

 

With one swift pull, she yanked his boxers down and got rid of her panties as well. A moan left her lips as he slit inside of her, filling her out completely. Her breathing became erratic and she forced herself to take, slow even breaths. _Not yet._

 

“Do you want me to move, Derek?” she purred. “Do you want me to ride you until you’re screaming out my name?” He swallowed visibly. She could tell that he was trying very hard to keep it together. “Yes.” he murmured, the grip of his hands tightening on her waist. “God, yes.”

 

Skye started moving, slowly and gently at first, but quickly picking up more speed. “Harder.” Derek groaned, eyes squeezed shut. She dragged her nails over his chest, leaving marks that immediately healed as she started moving even faster, his cock thrusting into her with every move of her hips.

 

Derek moved his hand downwards even as he moaned below her, flicking his thumb against her clit and multiplying the pleasure she was already feeling. She could feel her climax building up, waves of pleasure threatening to pull her under, until it finally overwhelmed her and she collapsed on top of Derek, her hair spilling over his chest. He came only seconds after her, and while she was riding out the aftershocks of her own orgasm, she thought that she would love to see him like this more often – his face a picture of absolute bliss.

 

She rolled off of him, resting her head on his chest while he wrapped an arm around her. They shared a few languid, open-mouthed kisses and Skye couldn’t recall the last time she had been so happy. She felt like she was floating.

 

“Love you.” he murmured, nuzzling his face into her hair. She didn’t think she would ever get tired of hearing him say that, especially when he sounded so adorably sleepy. “Love you too.” she whispered, placing a few gentle kisses on his neck. “You sound like you could use some sleep.”

 

He said something she couldn’t understand, his voice still muffled by her hair. “What was that?” she asked, smiling. He pulled away a few inches. He really did look tired, eyes half-closed and circles under his eyes that she hadn’t even noticed before. Skye remembered that he’d told her she’d been unconscious for three days. He’d probably barely slept during that time.

 

“Just a few hours.” he repeated, stifling a yawn. Skye chuckled. “More like twelve.” she muttered. Derek pulled her even closer. “Sorry.” he whispered. “You’ll get another round in the morning. Promise.”

 

She smiled and kissed him, savoring the feeling of his soft lips against hers. “I’ll take you up on that promise.” she said before settling into his embrace again, her head resting on his chest. “Goodnight, Derek.”

 

“G’night.” he murmured. He was asleep in a matter of moments.

 

Skye hadn’t thought that she would be able to fall asleep again, not after three days of being knocked out, but apparently she was still a bit weakened by her injuries. Derek’s steady heartbeat under her ear, the sound of his slow, even breathing and the reassuring warmth of his body lulled her back to sleep as well, dragging her down into a world of dreams and memories.

 


	53. Fifty-Two

_“Wake up, darling. I’m home.”_

_She opened her eyes. Victor Ford was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at her. His white shirt was soaked in blood and his skin was ghostly pale. Skye tried to get away from him but her muscles wouldn’t move. All she could do was lie there and look at him, panic building up inside of her._

_“What are you doing here?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be dead.”_

_His grin grew even wider. “I brought you a present.” he said, gesturing towards the other side of the bed. “I hope you like it.”_

_Slowly, very slowly, Skye turned her head. Part of her already knew what she would see, but her heart still skipped a beat when she saw Ford’s present. It was Derek, lying motionless on the bed next to her, his eyes staring without seeing anything. His throat had been slashed and there was blood everywhere, so much blood. Skye gasped. “No.” she whispered. “No. Bring him back. You have to bring him back.”_

_Ford shrugged. “Sorry, darling, I can’t do that. Personally, I think it’s one of my finest works though. Can’t you see the irony of it? He died the way you killed me. It’s hilarious, don’t you think?”_

_Suddenly, there was a knife in his hand and the grin was back. It looked like he was baring his teeth. “And now you will die that way too, Skye.” he growled. Then he lunged forward, and Skye screamed._

She awoke gasping for air, her heart racing in her chest. She tried to force herself to take slow, even breaths as she buried her head in her hands, but it didn’t work. The nightmare was still too fresh inside of her mind, the picture of Derek’s bloody body next to her burned into the inside of her eyelids.

 

Next to her, Derek stirred. “Skye?” he asked, his voice rough with sleepiness. “Are you okay?”

 

Skye didn’t dare look at him, in case she was still dreaming and he would only look at her blankly with blood gushing from his neck. “I’m fine.” she whispered, even though she was sure Derek wouldn’t believe her lie. He could hear her heartbeat, after all.

 

She was right. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her against his chest. “It’s alright.” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “I’m right here. You’re safe. Everything’s fine.”

 

Slowly, she relaxed into his embrace. Tears started running down her face and she turned around, hiding her face against Derek’s shoulder. He gently ran his hand up and down her back. “What did you dream about?” he asked somewhere above her. “Ford.” she simply replied, her voice weirdly strangled. She felt like talking about the nightmare would make it real.

 

When her crying subsided, she pulled away. “Go back to sleep.” she murmured quietly. “I’ll just get a glass of water.” Without waiting for his answer, she got out of the bed and walked over to the kitchen.

 

Her hands were trembling when she grabbed a glass from the cupboard. For a while she just stood there like that, holding on to the glass so tight she could see her knuckles whiten. Then suddenly arms wrapped around her waist from behind and she almost dropped it. Her breath hitched in her throat until she realized it was Derek.  “You scared me.” she said, her heart still beating a little too fast. “Why are you still up?”

 

He nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck, his beard tickling her skin. “You shouldn’t be alone.” he muttered.

 

Skye felt warmth spread inside of her at his protectiveness and for a moment she wanted to tell him about the nightmare as if he could take the pain away then, but of course, as much as she loved him, he couldn’t do that. “I’m fine, Derek.” she assured him, turning so she could look at him. “You’re tired. How much did you actually sleep in the last three days?”

 

Derek shrugged. “Five hours, I think. But I’m fine.” He was lying. She could tell he was tired from his slightly slurred speech and his still half-closed eyes. Worry for her was probably the only thing keeping him awake right now. She shot him a small smile. “Seriously, you should go back to sleep.”

 

Something in his face changed. Suddenly, he looked sad and when he spoke, he sounded strangely vulnerable. “Don’t do this, Skye.” he said quietly. “Don’t shut me out. Talk to me, please.”

 

He sounded so desperate that she couldn’t do anything else but throw herself into his arms, burying her face against his neck. “I’m sorry.” she whispered. “It’s just… talking about it won’t make anything better. I still keep seeing Ford’s face in every corner, even though I rationally know that he’s dead. It’s like he’s still taunting me, telling me that even though he’s gone it won’t… it won’t bring them back.”

 

She bit her lower lip to keep more tears from flowing. Derek pulled her closer. “There’s no bringing them back.” he said very quietly. “Believe me, I’ve tried. But that doesn’t mean killing Ford didn’t mean anything. You saved people, Skye, people who would’ve died if you hadn’t destroyed the Guardians and taken down their leader. I’m sure your family would be very proud of you.” He took her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. “I’m proud of you.” he whispered.

 

He leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back, closing her eyes and feeling nothing but his touch for a moment. When he pulled away, his forehead was still resting against hers. “You might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” she breathed out.

 

Derek smiled. “You are definitely the best thing that’s happened to me.” He had to stifle a yawn and Skye chuckled. “So you are tired after all.” He gave her a guilty look. “Maybe a little.” he admitted.

 

She took his hand, leading him back towards the bed. “Come on then. Let’s go back to sleep. You need to be rested for that other round you promised me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Frustrated, Lydia threw her sneakers into a corner of the room, followed by her sweaty gym clothes. This had definitely been one of her worst ideas ever.

 

After the fight against Raina, where she had been able to do nothing but huddle into a corner and let Aiden and Ethan protect her, Lydia had decided that something needed to change. She didn’t want to keep being the damsel in distress. Stiles, who didn’t exactly have superhuman powers either, at least knew how to fire a gun. All she could do was scream, and that wouldn’t do her much good in any fight.

 

So she had signed up for a self-defense class for women at the local gym, which had been nothing but one huge disappointment. She had made it all of two lessons before she had realized that nothing she would learn there would do her any good in an actual fight. And, well, since actual fights were what she was trying to prepare for, she didn’t see the purpose of spending her time in a room filled with a bunch of sweaty housewives, grumpy teens and an over-motivated coach named Brandi.

 

As relieved as she was to never have to hear Brandi’s voice again, this left her just where she’d started – utterly defenseless. And she couldn’t think of anyone who would be able to teach her how to fight a werewolf without having claws on her own or being particularly good with weapons.

 

Well, actually she could. She had only seen Skye fight once, but that had been enough to see that even without weapons or superpowers she would probably be able to hold her own against a werewolf. Of course, Lydia didn’t even know if Skye was still alive.

 

Ever since the fight, this question had been bothering her. Her vision of Skye’s death still haunted her, and not knowing whether it had come true or whether Skye had somehow evaded her fate made it even worse.

 

An idea started to form in Lydia’s head. Maybe she should pay Derek a visit. She was still a bit wary of him, but if anyone had heard from Skye, it would be him.

 

When the hot water of the shower started pouring down on her, slowly easing the tension out of her muscles, her resolve fastened. Tomorrow, she would go visit Derek, even if that would only leave her with more uncertainty. She couldn’t stand doing nothing.


	54. Fifty-Three

When Skye awoke the next morning, Derek was still fast asleep.

 

He looked adorable, his face buried into the pillow and his hair ruffled and messy, and Skye decided to let him sleep – it was only eight o’clock, after all. He didn’t even stir as she slipped out of his embrace and got up, another sign of how tired he had really been.

 

Derek’s fridge was empty save for a six-pack of beer, which wasn’t really the kind of breakfast she was craving, so Skye scribbled a hasty note telling him she was going out to get food in case he woke up, grabbed the keys to the Camaro, briefly wondering what had happened to her own car – the Guardians had probably taken it after abducting her – and left the loft.

 

When she had made the decision to leave Beacon Hills, she had only packed the most essential things – a couple of weapons, some fake IDs, a change of clothes – so most of her stuff was still in her apartment, even her laptop and phone as she had been afraid Ford would be able to track it. Skye stopped there first, changing out of Derek’s too large shirt and sweatpants and brushing her teeth before she headed to the supermarket.

 

She was just standing in front of a shelf trying to decide whether to get Hershey’s kisses, peanut butter cups or both when suddenly she heard a familiar voice call her name behind her. “Skye?” When she turned around, she saw Stiles staring at her, eyes widened in surprise.

 

“Good morning, Stiles.” she said, smiling at him. She couldn’t deny that she felt a little guilty. When Stiles had told her about Lydia’s prediction, he had seemed genuinely worried and he probably spent the last week thinking she was dead. Well, she had certainly come very close.

 

He just stared at her, mouth slightly opened. “What are you doing here?” he asked. She raised one eyebrow and gestured towards her full cart. “Buying groceries, obviously.” she replied, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “A girl’s gotta eat.”

 

Stiles swallowed, slowly regaining his composure. He lowered his voice as he said: “It’s just… you left after the fight without saying a word and we didn’t think you’d come back. What happened?”

 

Skye had to suppress a shiver as she thought of what had happened during the last couple of days. “Believe me, you don’t wanna know.” she replied quietly, every hint of amusement gone from her voice. Stiles just looked at her, his face telling her that he did want to know, and she gave an exasperated sigh. “Well, long story short, some people from my past caught up to me and almost made Lydia’s prediction come true, but I got away.”

 

His eyes widened again and she could see worry hidden deep inside of them. “Are you okay?” he asked. “What are you going to do now? Does Derek know you’re back?” His question about Derek once again showed her that the two were closer than either of them admitted. Stiles cared about Derek, and the feeling was mutual.

 

Skye chuckled. “Slow down.” she said. “I’m fine. I’ll probably stay for a while. And yes, Derek knows.” As soon as she said it out loud, she knew that it was true. She would stay – maybe not necessarily in Beacon Hills, but with Derek. And if he was here, well, then so would she be. “In fact, he’s the reason I’m here this early in the morning.” she added. “He’s got absolutely nothing in the way of food.”

 

Stiles grinned. “That sounds like him.” he said. Before he could say anything else, someone called his name and a man stepped around the corner. It was Stiles’ dad, easily recognizable because as the Sheriff he was well known in Beacon Hills. He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “And you are?”

 

She gave him what she hoped was a winning smile. “Skye Abernathy.” she said, stretching out her hand. It felt weird to use her real name in public, but now that Ford was gone and the few remaining Guardians would likely never hunt her again there was no reason not to. “Nice to meet you.” “She’s a friend of Derek’s.” Stiles added.

 

Sheriff Stilinski grabbed her hand. “John Stilinski.” he said. “Nice to meet you too.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but stopped himself and shot his son a helpless look. Stiles rolled his eyes. “She knows, Dad.” he said quietly. “Remember that little problem with another pack I told you about? She helped with that.”

 

His gaze found hers and she could see the silent plea in it. _Please don’t tell him it wasn’t just a little problem._ Stiles was trying to protect his dad, and once again she realized that they were just kids, even younger than she had been when she’d started her vendetta against Ford.

 

“So this… problem is taken care of?” the Sheriff asked skeptically, turning towards her. He was probably used to his son downplaying things and telling him half-truths and wanted her assurance. Skye nodded. “Yes. They won’t come back.” She didn’t mention that she had killed their leader. The Sheriff probably wouldn’t have liked that.

 

There were a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, then Skye said: “Well, I should get going. Have a great day, you two.” And with that, she threw both the Hershey’s kisses and the peanut butter cups into her cart and headed towards the cash register, suddenly missing her own dad terribly.

 

When she got back to the loft, Derek was still asleep. She put away the food she had bought and then started making breakfast. When she was done, the whole loft smelled like pancakes and bacon and it was already after eleven. Derek didn’t give any indication of waking up any time soon, even though she hadn’t been exactly quiet while rummaging through the kitchen, so she decided to wake him before the food got cold.

 

She sat down on the edge of the bed, gently brushing her hand along his jawline. “Derek?” she asked softly. “Are you awake?”

 

Either he hadn’t been as sound asleep as it had seemed or his reflexes were better than she’d thought, because before she could even realize what was happening he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against his chest. She giggled in surprise. “I guess that answers that then.” she said.

 

Derek nuzzled his face into her hair and muttered something incomprehensible before letting out a groan. “What time is it?” he asked in a low and sleep-roughened voice that she found impossibly sexy. She pressed a kiss to his neck. “A little after eleven.” she whispered. “I wanted to let you sleep, but breakfast is getting cold.”

 

He just yawned and she giggled again. “I made pancakes.” she said, knowing fully well how much he liked them. He pulled away a little and looked at her with awe in his eyes. “How are you so perfect?” he asked. Skye chuckled and leaned forward to kiss him, running one hand through his soft black hair. “Wait ‘til you try them.” she murmured against his lips. “They could be awful.”

 

She could feel him smile. “Well, it’s the thought that counts.” he said. He sat up, pulling her up with him, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before adding: “Let’s eat then, and afterwards I’ll make good on my promise.” Something fluttered in Skye’s stomach and she smiled. “I like that plan.”

 

Derek did more than make good on his promise.

 

By the time they were done, Skye lay sprawled across his chest, her skin slick with sweat. She felt boneless, utterly exhausted by not one, not two, but three orgasms in a row. “I’m keeping you.” she announced drowsily, wrapping her arms around his muscled torso. He chuckled. “Are you sure? I’m kind of a difficult charge.”

 

She raised her head a little so she could look at him. “Absolutely sure. I like a challenge.”

 

He grinned and kissed her, his lips hot against hers, and Skye felt desire flicker on again in her stomach, something she wouldn’t have thought possible. She deepened the kiss and pressed even closer to Derek, the feeling of his naked body against hers only amplifying her desire. He moaned into her mouth and angled his head to gently start sucking on her neck, making her skin tingle.

 

Skye shivered. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get enough of the way his hands and mouth felt on her skin, and she wanted him more than anything.

 

This was the exact moment someone chose to knock on the loft’s door.

 


	55. Fifty-Four

Lydia couldn’t deny that she was a little nervous.

 

The last time she had seen Derek, just after the fight against the Scavengers, he hadn’t seemed too friendly – in fact, he had seemed both extremely frustrated and deeply hurt by Skye’s abrupt departure – and she had a feeling he wouldn’t really appreciate her coming here to ask about Skye. Still, she forced herself to remain where she was, patiently waiting for the door to open.

 

The door slid open. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this was definitely not it. Derek was shirtless – somehow a perfect six-pack seemed to be something all werewolves shared – and looked like he had just gotten out of bed. The look on his face was half surprised, half annoyed when he looked down at her. “Lydia.” he said. “What are you doing here?”

 

Before she could say anything, someone stepped up behind Derek and Lydia’s jaw dropped. It was Skye, wearing a shirt that was too large to be hers. Her hair was a mess and suddenly Lydia had a very clear idea of what she’d just interrupted. Well, that answered her original question. Skye definitely wasn’t dead. In fact, she was very much alive and seemed to be enjoying herself.

 

Skye gave her a smile, evidently noticing her slight discomfort. “Hey.” she said. “I assume you’ve come to check whether I’m still alive?”

 

Lydia nodded, still slightly flabbergasted. “Yes. And, well, since that seems to be the case, I wanted to ask you something.” She hadn’t actually meant to add the last part, but she figured now was as good a time as any to ask Skye if she would be willing to teach her to fight.

 

Derek had by now retreated back into the loft, seemingly having resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t get what he had probably been hoping for any time soon. Skye raised one eyebrow and looked at her questioningly. “Shoot.” she said.

 

Lydia cleared her throat. “During the fight I realized that I don’t want to keep being the damsel in distress. And the others can’t exactly teach me how to defend myself without claws or teeth. I…” Skye interrupted her with a wide grin on her face. “You want me to teach you how to fight?”

 

The redhead briefly hesitated, then she nodded. “Basically, yes.” she said before quickly adding: “I mean, only if you’re planning on staying in town.” Honestly, Lydia wasn’t too worried Skye would say no. Her eyes were gleaming with anticipation, and her grin was growing wider by the second. She seemed to actually look forward to it.

 

“I’m in.” she said. “Beacon Hills needs more girl power.”

 

Lydia gave her a relieved smile. “Thank you.” she replied quietly.

 

A smirk tugged at the corners of Skye’s mouth. “Don’t thank me yet.” A quick pause, then: “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

 

* * *

 

 

Not for the first time, Walt cursed the fact that his ability to foresee the future was limited to events directly involving him. He would’ve given anything to be able to see whether Skye was still alive.

 

One and a half weeks had passed since her call about the Scavengers, and unless the fight hadn’t gone down yet or she had simply forgotten to call him, it was highly unlikely that she was still alive. Raina’s army had probably blown her and whoever she cared enough about to put her life on the line for away, leaving behind nothing but dust and ashes.

 

It was probably irrational that he cared about Skye that much – he could count the times he’d actually met her face to face on one hand – but from the time their paths had first crossed in Germany she had reminded him of his own daughter. Not that they looked anything alike – Ida had been tall with hair so light it was almost white and she had been much older than Skye when she’d died, grown with a husband and children of her own. Of course, they were dead now too. Everyone he had known in the old days was.

 

It had been something else about Skye that had made her effortlessly slip into the space in his heart Ida had once held – her fierce determination to the point of ruthlessness, her burning compassion or her defiant hope against all odds; he couldn’t really tell. All he knew was that he cared about Skye like a daughter and now she was likely dead and it was breaking his heart.

 

There was no way he could really be sure, and the uncertainty was almost worse than the worry, because it kept the small flame of hope inside of him burning.

 

The call reached him late in the evening. He didn’t recognize the number but he definitely recognized the voice that answered and his heart, old and tired as it was, skipped a beat in his chest. “Hi, Walt.”

 

He suddenly felt breathless even though he was sitting down. “Skye, are you alright? What happened? Is Raina…?”

 

She interrupted him with a chuckle. “I’m fine. Raina’s dead.” There was a brief pause, then she added: “So is Ford.”

 

Walt gasped. This couldn’t be true. Ford, the doom of his people, the omnipresent danger lurking in the shadows, couldn’t just be gone. Ford and what he represented were such a fix-point in his life, there was no way that he would die just like that. “Are you sure?” he asked. There was a faint buzzing in his ears.

 

“Absolutely sure.” Skye replied. Her voice was trembling slightly. “He and his men captured me, but there was one of them – his name was Leon – who helped me. I slashed Ford’s throat and ran. He’s dead, Walt. He really is. It’s over.”

 

Walt released a breath that he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding. The anxious tension inside of him that had been a part of him ever since the war had started slowly began to ease. Victor Ford, the monster that had been responsible for his whole family’s death, was finally gone and part of him had always, against all hope, believed that Skye would be the one to kill him.

 

“I can’t believe it.” he said hoarsely. “Are you alright, Skye?”

 

She sounded younger than usually when she answered. “I am now. They poisoned me with foxglove and it was touch and go for a while, but luckily some of Raina’s former people found me in time. They saved me. I’m all healed up now.”

 

He was surprised for a moment until he realized that Raina’s own soldiers were likely the ones who had hated her most. He shivered when he imagined being forced to do unspeakable things to innocent people without being able to do anything about it. Saving Skye had probably been their way of either thanking her for liberating them or trying to make up for whatever they had done. “Where are you now?” he asked.

 

“In California. I’ll stay here for a while.” Her smile was audible in her voice and Walt was pretty sure that it had something to do with whoever had caused her to go up against Raina and actually win. She had to care about him very much if she had been willing to jeopardize her mission against Ford to fight for him. “What’s his name?” he asked gently.

 

Skye snorted. “You know me too well.” she observed before adding: “His name’s Derek. He’s a werewolf.”

 

Walt had been expecting something like that; after all, Raina had mostly recruited werewolves. He sincerely hoped that this Derek would make Skye happy. She, of all people, deserved it, and now that Ford was dead she might actually have a real shot at some peace and quiet.

 

Apparently his fatherly feelings for Skye were even stronger than he’d thought, because the next words burst out of his mouth before he could stop them. “If he doesn’t treat you well, I’ll kick his ass. I might be old, but I still have it in me.” She laughed. “I’m sure you do.” she said. “And I appreciate it, Walt. But don’t worry. I’m… I’m happy.” “I’m glad.” he replied softly.

 

For a few moments, neither of them said anything, then Skye said: “I need to ask you a favor. Can you spread the message to the rest of us? I’d do it myself, but you’ve got way more contacts than I do.”

 

“Of course I will.” he said promptly. He hesitated for a second, then he added: “Maybe I can come visit you some time in California.”

 

Her answer was very quiet. “I’d like that.”


	56. Fifty-Five

It was time again.

 

He had looked forward to that day for weeks, and perhaps it was yet another reminder of how pathetic his life really was that the only thing he could look forward to was his annual day out of the bunker to restock on supplies. Frankly though, he couldn’t help but enjoy the few hours in the sunlight, getting to see something else besides the dull grey walls of the bunker. Sure, it had kept him alive all those years and he was thankful for its existence, but sometimes it still took all his self-control to not run away and never come back, no matter how dangerous that would be.

 

It was fall. The days were already cold and short up here, so he got up early to have as many hours of sunlight as he possibly could. He ate one of the last cans of peaches and then went through the motions of securing the bunker.

 

His gun was always loaded – he hadn’t fired a single shot since he’d arrived at the bunker – but he still checked it again before tugging it into his waistband. He hid a few short knives in his boots as well, just in case. Then he locked all the doors, set the alarms and checked the outdoor security cameras to make sure no one would see him exit the bunker before finally pressing his hand against the scanner that opened the heavy front door and stepping out into the cold morning air.

 

He allowed himself a few minutes of simply standing there and breathing, reveling in the feeling of the sunlight on his skin and the fresh air in his lungs, then he squared his shoulders and began walking across the small hill the bunker was hidden under to get the truck out of its hiding place. There wasn’t much time if he wanted to be back here before nightfall.

 

It took him an hour and a half to get to the nearest town, which was inconvenient but one of the reasons the bunker was so secure. No one found it unless they knew what they were looking for.

 

He went straight for the local convenience store. The owner’s name was Margaret and she was like him – gifted. She wasn’t very social and not the easiest person to be around, but she had been quick to offer him her help and that was all that counted. Every fall, she provided him with enough food to last him until the next year.

 

He had never told Margaret his real name and if she had guessed it regardless, she hadn’t let it on. These days, he went by John.

 

Margaret looked somewhat excited when he entered the store. That was unusual for her – normally she looked like she was pissed off at the world and everyone in it – and he couldn’t help but feel a little curious about what could’ve put that almost hopeful look on her face.

 

“Morning, John.” she said in her husky voice. “You’re early today.” He shrugged. “I wanted to make the most of the day.” he replied, slowly walking towards the counter. “Do you have my stuff?”

 

She shot him a sharp look. “Of course I do.” she said briskly and gestured towards the door leading to the back room of the store. “It’s back there. But first, I need to tell you something.”

 

He raised his eyebrows. Margaret wasn’t the talkative type, and in all the years since he’d arrived in Canada they had only spoken a handful of words, most of them out of bare necessity. Never had she started a conversation on her own. “What is it?” he asked.

 

The excited look was back, making her eyes gleam. “Well, you know I haven’t had contact to our people in years.” she said, leaning towards him and lowering her voice. He tensed. Speaking about their gifts in public was risky, and usually Margaret was almost as paranoid as him. Today, she kept talking as if she hadn’t noticed his discomfort.

 

“Yesterday I got a call. One of my old friends, Walt Zimmermann. He must’ve tracked me down somehow. You won’t believe what he told me.” Her voice got even quieter and he had to lean in closely to understand her.

 

“Victor Ford is dead, John.” she said. “It was the Abernathy girl who did it – Skye, I think. Apparently she took down most of the Guardians’ bases all around the world and then she slit his throat. Walt told me that…”

 

He wasn’t listening anymore. His heart was racing in his chest and the name was ringing in his ears. _The Abernathy girl. Skye._ No. It couldn’t be. She was dead; he knew that for a fact. Skye Abernathy had died in the bombing that had killed the rest of the Abernathy family as well. “That’s not possible.” he whispered.

 

Margaret shook her head excitedly. “That’s what I thought.” she replied. “But I trust Walt. And she told him herself how she killed that goddamn bastard and left him to rot. It’s true, John. The Guardians are basically gone.”

 

All he could do was stand there and breathe. _She’s alive,_ he thought. _God, she’s alive._

And then there was another thought, ringing through his head loud and clear.

 

_I need to find her._

* * *

 

 

A continent away, Eli was slowly beginning to lose hope.

 

Unlike Savannah, he had never been the patient type and four days of waiting for Derek to call them had left him completely on edge, nervously pacing back and forth through their small motel room.

 

“For god’s sake, Eli, stop it!”

 

Savannah’s voice cut through the tense silence and he stopped abruptly. She was glaring at him, and if there was one thing Savannah was really good at, it was glaring. He could feel himself shrinking under her piercing gaze. “Stop your bloody pacing and sit down.” she snapped. “You’re driving me nuts!” Her accent was stronger than usually, something that only happened when she was trying to hide her nervousness, and that stopped him from protesting.

 

Slowly, he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, slipping one arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and once again he was surprised how a woman this tiny could be as strong as Savannah was. “Do you think he’ll call?” he asked quietly.

 

He could feel her shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know.” she said. “He might, if he decides to take another shot at being an Alpha.” There was silence for a moment before she added very quietly: “We’ve done horrible things to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want anything to with us anymore.” Her voice was heavy with guilt and Eli almost flinched as he remembered how they had tortured Derek under Raina’s command, had almost broken him. He would understand if even after helping Skye, he’d want them as far away as possible, if only to keep the memories away.

 

Then again, in the three days they’d spent at Derek’s loft, he hadn’t seemed hostile anymore after the initial distrust. He hadn’t pushed for them to leave as soon as Skye had been on the mend and he had appeared genuinely grateful for their help. Maybe he had been able to do what they hadn’t been able to do themselves – forgive.

 

Eli hoped that he had, because otherwise Savannah and him would be on their own, Omegas in a world where quite a few people probably sought revenge for what they’d done while under Raina’s control. They were far from defenseless, but they needed a pack if they wanted to have any real shot at survival.

 

Of course, if Derek declined their offer, they could still try to look for another Alpha who would accept them into his pack, but their experiences with leaders had been more than awful. They had seen enough of Derek’s character to know that he would be a good, fair and caring leader – and powerful too.

 

Eli pulled Savannah closer and placed a kiss on top of her head. “It’s going to be okay.” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure of that at all.

 

Savannah snorted and he could tell she was going to call him out on his bullshit – she didn’t like unconditional optimism – but before she could say anything, her phone beeped. Eli flinched at the sudden noise but Savannah moved as fast as lightning, grabbing the phone and reading the message that had just arrived.

 

He could hear her heart skip a beat and her breath hitch in her throat and he knew who the message was from even before she held the phone out to him.

 

_Come to the loft tomorrow afternoon. We’ve got a lot to talk about._


	57. Fifty-Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to all of you!   
> I'm sorry for the long break, but I simply didn't have time to write much over the holidays. However, this story is now completely written and there will be sixty-one chapters. I am working on a sequel, but I don't know yet if I'm going to upload it directly after I finish this one. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Derek had finally made his decision.

 

It had been one point Skye had made that had been the deciding factor. Scott and all his pack members were in their senior year of high school. Not long and they would go off to college, leaving Beacon Hills completely unprotected – unless he was there to step up, a strong pack behind him. Derek had a sense of duty, and he wasn’t about to leave the town that had been Hale territory for generations to be taken over by someone like Hardy.

 

Maybe he hadn’t been the best Alpha the first time around, but he was hell-bent on not making the same mistakes again. For starters, he would not turn helpless teenagers to increase his own power. Instead, he was going to take Savannah and Eli up on their offer, because with them, he would gain two pack members whom he could trust and who knew how to handle themselves in the world of the supernatural.

 

But first, he needed to talk to Scott, which was why he was now pulling up in front of the McCall house, feeling strangely nervous. Skye had offered to come with him, but he had declined. This was something he needed to do alone. If he couldn’t handle this, he wouldn’t ever be able to handle being an Alpha.

 

He got out of his Camaro, stepped up to the front door, took a deep breath and rang the bell.

 

It was Melissa McCall who opened the door. She looked surprised to see him and he could hear her heart jump a little. “Derek.” she said. “I assume you’re here to talk to Scott?” He only nodded.

 

She turned around, probably to call out for Scott, but the young Alpha had already appeared at the top of the stairs, evidently having heard Derek arriving. Isaac was directly behind him, eyeing him curiously. “Hello, Derek.” Scott said, appearing not at all surprised to see him. “Why don’t we talk outside?”

 

“Alright.” Derek said and Scott walked down the stairs. Isaac stayed behind in spite of the obvious curiosity on his face, something which Derek was thankful for. This was something between Scott and him, and the Betas shouldn’t get involved before they had reached an agreement.

 

Silently, they walked away from the house side by side, far enough so Isaac wouldn’t be able to hear them. When they were almost at the edge of the woods, Scott turned towards him. “This is about the Alpha thing, right?” he asked.

 

Derek nodded. “I’ve made a decision.” he said, his voice sounding much calmer than he felt. “But I need to know you’re on board before I go through with it.” The young Alpha raised his eyebrows. “Let’s hear it.” Derek took a deep breath, and then he started talking.

 

“You and your pack won’t be here to protect Beacon Hills much longer. You’ll go off to college and the only way we can assure this place stays safe is if I have a pack behind me to protect it. So… I’ve decided to take another shot at being an Alpha.”

 

Scott didn’t look upset like Derek had half expected him to. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right.” he said. “I’ve thought about this too. I don’t want to leave Beacon Hills unprotected. After all, we still have the Nemeton drawing all sorts of supernatural creatures here.”

 

His eyes met Derek’s. “But you don’t have a pack yet. And you can’t just go and turn a couple of teenager like you did before.”

 

Derek almost flinched when he thought of Erica and Boyd and what happened to them because he had decided to turn them. He couldn’t deny that he felt a little hurt by Scott’s assumption that he had seriously considered doing this again. “I know.” he snapped. He took another deep breath to calm himself and added: “Two of Raina’s former soldiers were the ones who saved Skye. They need an Alpha and they asked me to join my pack. I trust them, and they are great fighters. They’ll be able to protect Beacon Hills.”

 

He could almost see the wheels turning inside of Scott’s head. “So you’ll have two pack members?” he asked slowly.

 

“Technically, yes.” Derek said. “But Skye will be here as well. You and I both know she’s a force to be reckoned with, and she’s on our side.” He could feel warmth spreading inside of him when he thought of her. This morning, she had made it perfectly clear that she was planning on staying in Beacon Hills – a part of him had still been convinced that she would leave him – even though she might have to take a few trips now and then to take care of the remaining Guardians.

 

Scott nodded slowly, and then, to Derek’s utter surprise, he smiled. “Well, I think Beacon Hills will be in good hands when I leave.” he said.

 

Derek could feel his own lips curling to return Scott’s smile. They had never been on the best of terms, especially not after everything that had happened when he had been an Alpha the first time, but maybe now they could leave all this behind them. “Thank you, Scott.” he said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

 

The young Alpha only smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

At the same time, Lydia let out a string of curses as Skye tackled her to the ground yet again.

 

She was trying to do exactly as Skye had shown her countless times – dodge hits, spot weaknesses, counterattack – but she was simply too slow and too weak. Skye moved faster than Lydia could process what she was doing and slipping out of her grip was ridiculously easy for her, and she wasn’t even as strong as a werewolf. How could Lydia ever hope to hold her own against one of them?

 

“This isn’t working.” she muttered, frustration evident in her voice. Skye held out a hand to help her up, a slight smirk on her lips. “Giving up already?” she asked. “You know, it took me years to get as good at fighting as I am. And I’m still far from perfect. You have to be patient, Lydia. Fight skills don’t come easy.”

 

Lydia ran a hand through her long red hair and gave an exasperated sigh. “I know.” she said. “It’s just… I’ll never be able to defend myself against someone supernatural. I’m not strong or fast enough, no matter how much I train. This is pointless!” She realized she was sounding slightly whiny, but she couldn’t help it. All of her built-up frustration and desperation was pouring out at once.

 

Skye didn’t say anything. Instead, she stared at her like she was trying to figure something out. “You’re right.” she finally said, after a few seconds of silence.

 

Now it was Lydia’s turn to stare. This wasn’t the answer she had been expecting, but before she could say anything, Skye continued. “Werewolves will always be stronger and faster than you, which is why you need another advantage on your side. I’ve got my powers, the hunters got their weapons. We just need to find yours.”

 

Lydia scoffed. “I don’t have any advantage!” she almost yelled. “I’m just a girl trying not to get killed.”

 

Strangely, Skye smiled. “Oh, but that’s not true, Lydia. You’re not just a girl. You’re a banshee.” She couldn’t help but snort. “What do you want me to do, scream at them?” she asked sarcastically.

 

Skye’s smile turned into a grin. “That is exactly what I want you to do.”

 

Lydia stared at her like she had just gone mad. She was starting to think that going to Skye for help maybe hadn’t been such a great idea, but before she could voice any of her doubts aloud, Skye continued talking. “I’ve known Banshees before.” she explained. “Some of them could use their screams to fight by creating kind of a force field around themselves. It was… highly effective. I think you can do that too. You just need to learn to use your abilities.”

 

Lydia couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. Her abilities had always felt like more of a burden then a gift, damned to predict horrible things without being able to do anything to stop them – or worse, find the bodies after the horrible thing had already happened. It was hard for her to believe that there might actually be something good about being a Banshee. “And how would I do that?” she asked.

 

Skye shrugged. “I’m no expert on Banshees, but I can try to teach you to control your abilities the same way I was taught to control mine. I can’t guarantee that it’ll work, and even if it does it’ll take time and practice, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

 

She took a deep breath. It sounded impossibly tempting to be able to use whatever abilities she had in a way that would actually help her and her pack in a fight. And trying wouldn’t hurt, would it?

 

“Let’s do it.” she said.


	58. Fifty-Seven

“They’re here.”

 

Derek didn’t sound as nervous as she had expected. His talk with Scott had left him in an exceptionally good mood, and even though he hadn’t yet had time to tell her all the details, she assumed that it had gone over rather smoothly. Skye had to admit that she was positively surprised by Scott’s reaction. She had expected him to react much worse to Derek’s decision to assemble his own pack again.

 

Now, the only thing standing between him and his own pack was this talk with Eli and Savannah, and from what Derek had told her about them, she was mostly confident about it.

 

She had sent Lydia home just about half an hour ago with the promise of beginning to try and teach her to control her powers tomorrow. If it wasn’t for Eli and Savannah, she would’ve probably started today. She had the impression that she was more excited about it than Lydia. The banshee still seemed mostly skeptical.

 

Derek walked across the room and slid the door open. Skye hadn’t heard anything, but then again, heightened senses weren’t something she was equipped with. Sure enough, Eli and Savannah were just at the top of the stairs, mumbling a greeting as they entered the loft.

 

There was uncomfortable silence for a moment as each of them tried to assess the others, then Eli broke the silence with a quiet whistle as his gaze found her. “You sure look better than the last time I saw you.” he said with a lopsided grin.

 

Skye smiled. “I feel better too.” she said. “Thank you for saving me, by the way. Both of you.” She looked at Savannah who had a look on her face she couldn’t really interpret. “I would’ve died out there if you hadn’t found me.” she added quietly. Savannah smiled. “We would do it again.” she replied softly, and suddenly Skye could understand how Derek trusted her even after she had tortured him.

 

Derek cleared his throat. “We need to talk about what you asked me.” he said. All gazes turned towards him. He seemed slightly uncomfortable but when he continued, his voice was calm. “I’ve talked to Scott. He agrees that is in everyone’s best interests if I have a strong pack behind me that can protect Beacon Hills once he and his pack go off to college. So if you still want me as your Alpha, I’d like you to be a part of it.”

 

Eli gave a wide grin and even Savannah, who looked like she didn’t really smile a lot, smiled. “Of course we still want to be in your pack, man.” Eli said. “You’re about the only Alpha I’ve ever met who isn’t doing this for power. Plus, you beat Dmitri. That means something.” Savannah nodded along.

 

Skye caught the quick glimmer of pain in Derek’s eyes and she knew he was thinking of his first time as an Alpha when he had been doing all of it for power. Of course, she hadn’t known him back then, but the Derek she knew now, the Derek she loved, wasn’t that man. He would put anyone’s wellbeing before his own and power was the last thing he cared about.

 

She slipped her hand into his and gently squeezed it. He gave her a small smile before turning back to Eli and Savannah.

 

“Well then.” he said, letting his eyes flash red for a moment. “Welcome to the Hale pack.”

 

* * *

 

 

The man who called himself John grabbed the steering wheel tighter as he crossed the Canadian border for the first time in four years.

 

In front of him, he could see the city of Detroit. From here, it would only take him about four and a half hours to get to Chicago where he had grown up. Part of him wanted to go there, see the place where it had all gone up in flames, maybe visit the graves, but this would have to wait. First, he needed to find Skye. Maybe then they could go and visit Chicago together.

 

Walt Zimmermann, whose number Margaret had given him, had only been able to tell him that she was somewhere in California with a werewolf named Derek, so this was where he was headed now. He was planning on ditching the car he was now driving in Detroit, just like he had done with the truck in Toronto. Maybe Walt was right and the Guardians were really completely gone, but a bit of paranoia couldn’t be bad. It was what had kept him alive all this time.

 

It would take him a couple of days to get to California and then probably another couple of days, maybe weeks, to find Skye. What he’d do then he hadn’t yet thought about. The prospect of seeing her again after all those years seemed almost unreal, like he couldn’t really plan for it because it was only a desperate fantasy.

 

He pushed the thought as far away as possible. She was alive, Walt had said so, and from what he knew about Walt Zimmermann, he could trust him. Skye was alive and the only thing he needed to do now to make that fantasy reality was find her.

 

One hour later, he had acquired – well, stolen – a new car and was driving out of Detroit. His foot was itching to floor the gas and get to California as fast as he possibly could, but he kept under the speed limit. He couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself, not while at the very least some remnants of the Guardians were still out there.

 

The lights of Detroit vanished behind him as he sped down the I-94. He thought of what he was leaving behind – the bunker and its safety – and what he would hopefully gain – seeing Skye again after four years of thinking she was dead. His heart clenched almost painfully at the prospect.

 

He wouldn’t miss life in the bunker, not even if Walt’s information would turn out to be wrong. It had been safe and comfortable, yes, but it hadn’t really been a life. All these years he had only been hiding, unable and unwilling to face the world the Guardians had created – a coward. He wasn’t going to hide anymore.

 

His parents had raised him to be a warrior, and he had disappointed them. He had given up and had gone deep into hiding to stay alive without really having a life anymore. It had felt enough, at least while he had still been living in the bunker, but now he realized that it hadn’t ever really been enough. It was not what his parents would’ve wanted him to do, and he was determined on not disappointing them any further.

 

In that moment, the world passing beside him, he made a decision. If Walt was wrong and Ford was still alive, he would hunt him down and end his life once and for all.

 

* * *

 

 

It was already dark by the time Eli and Savannah left.

 

Derek was exhausted, but not in a bad way. The longer they had talked, the surer he had become that he had made the right decision by letting them join his pack. No matter what they had done while they had worked for Raina, they were exactly the kind of people he needed if he wanted to keep Beacon Hills safe and not mess up at being an Alpha again.

 

Arms wrapped around him from behind and Skye pressed against his back. “Well, that went better than I expected.” she said. “I think I actually liked them.”

 

Derek chuckled and turned around so he could hug her properly. Her head fit perfectly under his chin and he pressed a small kiss to the top of her head. “So you didn’t believe me when I told you they were good people?” he asked.

 

She looked up to him with a slight smile. “Not entirely.” she admitted. “I saw what you looked like after they were done with you. It’s hard to forget that.” Her smile was gone now, pain hidden deep inside of her eyes, and Derek pulled her closer. He couldn’t stand to see that look on her face. “That wasn’t them.” he gently reminded her. “That was Raina.”

 

“I know.” she murmured, her voice muffled as she had her face buried against his shoulder. “I think I just needed to meet them to fully realize it. Like I said, I believe I actually like them.”

 

She pulled away again. “Anyway, I’m hungry.” she said. “How about we order Chinese food and watch Orange is the New Black until we can’t keep our eyes open?”

 

He leaned down to kiss her. Her lips were soft against his and again he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be here with the woman he loved after all that had happened. After his family’s death he had given up all hopes for a happy end but now he dared to hope again, because Skye was making him ridiculously happy.

 

“Sounds perfect.” he murmured.


	59. Fifty-Eight

When Lydia stepped out of the English classroom the next day, Aiden was waiting for her at her locker.

 

She pasted an annoyed expression on her face out of pure habit, but really she was kind of glad to see him. They hadn’t had an opportunity to talk since she had kissed him after the fight against Raina – well, there had been one rather lengthy make-out session in the Coach’s office, but that couldn’t exactly be called talking – and they certainly had a lot to talk about.

 

Lydia didn’t really know why she had kissed him – it had been kind of a spur of the moment thing; after all, he had saved her life multiple times during the fight – but she knew that her resolve to keep away from him was basically non-existent by now – hence the make-out session – and she needed to figure out what that meant for them.

 

“How was English?” he asked, a wide grin on his face. _God, it should be forbidden for someone to be that attractive,_ she thought.

 

“Long.” she replied. “And boring. Did you want something or are you just hanging out at my locker for no reason?” Her question lacked the honest annoyance she had used to display before the Scavengers’ attack and she knew Aiden had noticed, because his grin grew even wider.

 

“Well, I wanted to ask if you were doing anything today.” he said. “I think we should… talk.” A little smirk appeared on his face when he said talk and Lydia was pretty sure that he had something else in mind, and while she had to agree that other activities would be more enjoyable, they definitely did have to talk. Unfortunately, she was already doing something today.

 

Skye had promised her to begin trying to teach her to control her powers today, and as much as she wanted to talk to Aiden, that was important to her. She had barely slept all night, excitement and skepticism swirling around in her head.

 

“Sorry.” she said with genuine regret. “I can’t today.”

 

Aiden’s smile fell and he raised one eyebrow. “Can’t or won’t?” “Can’t.” she repeated, slamming her locker door shut.

 

He looked at her as if he still didn’t quite believe her. “Mind if I ask what you’re doing?”

 

Lydia hesitated for a moment, then she decided that there was no reason not to tell him. The fight against Raina and her soldiers had proven that they could trust him and his brother, and frankly she wanted to tell him, wanted to share her worries with him. “I’m meeting with Skye.” she explained. “She’s going to teach me how to control my powers.”

 

Aiden raised his eyebrows, appearing genuinely surprised. “Can she do that?” he asked. “I thought she’s not a Banshee.” She shrugged, strangely reassured by the fact that he seemed to share her doubts. “She isn’t, but she thinks it’s similar to how she controls hers. It’s worth a shot.” There was a short moment of silence before she added: “Anything’s better than how it is now, because I have absolutely no control.”

 

His face softened. “I’m sure you’ll do great.” he said.

 

Lydia couldn’t stop herself. She got on her tiptoes and kissed him, wrapping one arm around his neck. He kissed her back, his hands resting on her waist, and she could feel him smile against her lips.

 

“Talk another time?” he asked quietly when she pulled away. She nodded, feeling slightly lightheaded. “Yeah.” she said. “Another time.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, she pulled up in front of the building Derek’s loft was in. The black Camaro wasn’t parked out front, which she took as a sign that Derek himself wasn’t there. Honestly, she was kind of relieved about that, because it would be much easier to focus without his skeptical glances towards her and the unbearable sexual tension between him and Skye.

 

The door upstairs was slid open only seconds after she had knocked. Skye gave her a bright smile full of enthusiasm that Lydia didn’t quite share. “Hello!” she said excitedly. “Are you ready to do this?” “I hope so.” she murmured before she stepped inside.

 

“Want anything to drink?” Skye asked. Lydia shook her head. “I’d rather start right away.” she replied.

 

Skye grinned. “I like your motivation.” she said and then gestured towards the sofa. “Sit. I’ll have to explain to you how I learned to control my powers before you can try to do it yourself. And I’m warning you, it took years until I stopped accidentally destroying all kinds of electrical devices around me. If this works, it’ll take time.”

 

Lydia only nodded in spite of the hopeless feeling inside of her and sat down on the sofa. She didn’t know anyone else who had even the slightest clue how her powers worked, so this was her only shot at ever learning to control them. She wasn’t about to give up that easily.

 

Skye’s grin was nowhere to be seen when she sat down next to her and began to talk. “All of us are our born with our powers.” she said and Lydia had a feeling that it was harder for her to talk about this than she would ever admit. “But they usually manifest around age twelve, which is why we start teaching control before that. You can probably imagine what it would be like if my powers, for example, just burst out without any control whatsoever.”

 

“What kind of other powers are there?” The question left her mouth before she could stop it. She hadn’t meant to ask, because she had seen the grief hidden deep inside of Skye’s eyes – whatever the group she had told them about, the Guardians, had done to her people, it had been something horrible – but her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

 

Skye visibly hesitated before taking a deep breath and answering. “Everything you can imagine. My father could create clones of himself, my brother could alter gravity and my aunt was a telekinetic. I once knew someone who had unbreakable skin, and you saw what Raina could do.”

 

Lydia could only stare at her with awe. Even after everything she already knew about the supernatural world powers like these sounded almost fantastic. How could the Guardians have ever stood a chance against them?

 

“Anyway” Skye said, obviously wanting to change the topic. “My dad and aunt started teaching me when I was about ten, and unlocking my power was easy. After my powers manifested, it only took me a couple of days until I could shoot lightning at will. But I had absolutely no control over its strength or duration. That is what takes time – the details.”

 

She cleared her throat and looked at Lydia again. “We’ll come to all that later. To learn to control your power you have to find it first.”

 

The redhead snorted. “Yeah, that could be a problem.” she muttered. “The only thing I have is random visions, not power.”

 

Skye smiled and got up. “Don’t be so pessimistic.” she said, gesturing for her to stand as well. “Your power is there, I know that for sure. Close your eyes.” Lydia bit back a sarcastic comment and did as told.

 

“Okay.” Skye said. “Now think of your power as something that is always there, hidden somewhere inside of you. You just haven’t found a way to access it yet, and that’s what I’ll try to teach you.”

 

“How?” Lydia asked, her eyes fluttering open again. Skye shot her a sharp look, but the shadow of a smile was still lingering on her lips. “You’ll find out soon enough.” she said. “Close your eyes again. Focus.” Again, Lydia did as told.

 

“Try to imagine what it feels like when you use your power.” “But I haven’t…” Skye interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. “Yes, Lydia, you have. Imagine the feeling when you scream. You’re a Banshee. Your scream is what gives you power.”

 

Reluctantly, Lydia tried to recall the feeling of screaming. Usually, there was mainly shock and fear, because she mostly screamed when she had just found a body or had had a gruesome vision, but when she let the memory fill her out completely, she felt something else too – a rush of something that felt like power. She gasped. “I… I think I feel it.” she whispered without opening her eyes.

 

“Good.” Skye said. Her voice sounded very far away. “Let the memory guide you. What you’re feeling – your power – it is inside of you somewhere. Try to find it and when you do, release it. Let it fill you out.”

 

Lydia concentrated even harder. The memory of screaming was drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of power, stronger even than the memory of fear and shock. It was all she could think about, and then she felt it. More than a memory or a feeling – actual power, burning inside of her like a small flame, kept at bay by her fear and reluctance to accept what she was.

 

She hesitated for a brief second and then she gave in, letting the fire fill her body. It seemed to burn its way through her veins, leaving her buzzing with a strange sensation she couldn’t quite identify. The air around her was thick with whispers and pictures seemed to flash before her eyes, a quick succession of faces. Lydia opened her eyes and saw Skye, her gaze full of worry and her lips moving quickly, but her words were drowned out by the voices Lydia was still hearing.

 

There was only one thing she could do. She screamed.

 

A wave of power erupted from her body, sending Skye flying through the air.


	60. Fifty-Nine

Skye had to have passed out for a moment because when she opened her eyes, Lydia was hovering over her.

 

She was talking, but her words didn’t really arrive in Skye’s brain. Her head was throbbing with pain and she felt like she was going to throw up. She blinked a few times to clear her slightly blurry vision and now she could hear what Lydia was saying.

 

“…so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Skye murmured, which wasn’t really a lie because she would be fine in a few minutes. “I might have a slight concussion. Don’t worry.” Lydia looked far from convinced and Skye feared that she would be too scared to hurt someone now to use her powers again, so she pushed herself up to a sitting position.

 

That was a bad decision. Her world started to sway dangerously and she had to focus very hard to not pass out again. “Yep.” she muttered. “I’m definitely concussed.”

 

“I’m so sorry.” Lydia said again. “I couldn’t stop it, it just came out. I…” Skye interrupted her. “It’s fine, Lydia.” she replied. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be okay.” She forced herself to smile in spite of the dizziness and the throbbing pain. “You did great. I’ve never seen anyone who was able to access his power at first try.”

 

She slowly pushed herself up, holding on to the wall she had just slammed against for balance, but her legs still would’ve given in if Lydia hadn’t grabbed her arm to steady her. Her vision blurred again and she did her best to focus. “You should sit down.” Lydia said and started leading her towards the couch. Skye followed her without protest and sighed in relief when she collapsed onto the cushions.

 

It didn’t take long for the dizziness to disappear and the pain to ease, and once more Skye was thankful for her healing ability. Being concussed sucked, even if it was only for a couple of minutes.

 

Lydia was still eyeing her, her face full of guilt, and Skye shot her a reassuring smile. “See, I’m already as good as new.” she said. “Perks of being gifted. You can’t hurt me for long, even though what you did was pretty impressive.”

 

A slight smile appeared on the redhead’s face. “It was, wasn’t it?” she asked.

 

Skye chuckled. “Oh, I remember that feeling.” she said with a grin. “The first time I summoned electricity, I felt invincible.” She remembered the feeling all too well, standing in the backyard of their old house, her whole body alight with lightning. Only later she had learned to direct the electricity through her hands and therefore hit specific targets.

 

“How about we call it a day and continue tomorrow?” she suggested. “You should enjoy this feeling while it lasts. You’ll get frustrated soon enough.” She remembered that too, countless days spent trying to properly control the electricity without ever really succeeding. It had taken her months to be able to fully control its strength.

 

Lydia looked slightly disappointed but she didn’t object. “Okay.” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then.” She got up and walked towards the door, but turned around again halfway there. “I am really sorry I threw you across the room.” she said once again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

Skye smiled and got up. The dizziness was gone and she didn’t even sway a little. “I am.” she assured her. “See?” Lydia smiled and nodded and then she was out of the door in a matter of seconds.

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek got home from his trip to see one of his mother’s former allies two towns over, Skye was sprawled across the couch watching some sort of game show. She appeared half asleep but gave him a tired smile when he stepped into her line of sight. “Hey, Der.” she muttered. “How was it?”

 

Derek dropped down on the couch next to her and she snuggled closer, resting her head in his lap. He started absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as he said: “Alright, I guess. Frank was pretty surprised that I reached out to him, but he was friendly. He assured me that I would have his support.”

 

Frank Allerton was the Alpha of a relatively large and influential pack and he’d had a rather close relationship with Derek’s mother, with Talia even going as far as calling him her friend. When Derek had become Alpha the first time around, he hadn’t bothered to reach out to any of her former allies, but this time he wanted to do it right. Frank had been a good place to start, and the old man had been very quick to offer an alliance. He was good-natured, likable and not at all like other Alphas Derek had dealt with before, so he was actually looking forward to their working together.

 

Skye sat up, nuzzling her face into the curve of his neck. “Sounds like it was a success.” she mumbled drowsily, her warm breath tickling the skin on his neck.

 

He smiled as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. “How did it go with Lydia?” he asked, running one hand through her hair. Skye pulled away a little, a half-smile on her face. “Great.” she said enthusiastically – which was strange considering her next words were: “She threw me across the room.”

 

Derek raised one eyebrow. “How exactly is that great?” he asked. “And how the hell did she manage to throw you?”

 

“She screamed.” Skye said. “A banshee’s scream is extremely powerful. I just taught her how to channel her power and she threw me across the whole room – just like that. Gave me a concussion. It was kinda awesome.”

 

He chuckled. “You’re a little weird, you know that?” Skye’s grin grew wider. “But you love it.” she replied. Derek smiled, a warm feeling spreading inside of him, and leaned down to kiss her. “I do.” he murmured against her lips. She gave a soft a giggle, sliding one of her hands around his neck and deepening the kiss.

 

“I’ve missed you today.” she whispered, her lips hot against his as she kissed him hungrily. He could feel himself hardening as Skye climbed into his lap without ever interrupting the kiss, her body pressing close to his. God, he wanted her so badly. “I’ve missed you too.” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

 

He blindly reached down for the hem of Skye’s shirt, pulling away for a brief second to get it off before he kissed her again, even more fiercely this time. She did the same thing to his shirt only seconds later and her bare, hot skin against his only amplified his pleasure. “I should leave more often if this is what I get as a welcome back.” he muttered with a smile.

 

Skye giggled and gently bit down on his skin where his shoulder met his neck. He shivered. “Don’t get used to it.” she said quietly. “I’m just in an especially good mood today.”

 

He chuckled. “Well, if getting thrown across the room puts you in such a good mood I’m happy to do that as well.” Skye smacked him on the arm with a grin on her face. “You’re an idiot.” she announced, but before he could say anything in his defense, she kissed him again, hungry and demanding. Derek let his hands roam all over her body, his mind clouded with desire, and without making a conscious decision, he flipped Skye so she was lying on the couch and he was on top of her.

 

She looked up at him with a smile on her lips, her cheeks flushed red and her hair disheveled, and once again he wondered how he could be so in love with someone. “You’re beautiful.” he whispered and Skye’s smile grew soft. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” she said and Derek grinned before he leaned down to kiss her again.

 

The next couple of minutes passed in a haze of desire. Derek knew Skye well enough to know exactly where she liked to be touched, and every moan that left her lips gave him a brief rush of satisfaction. In turn, she grinded her hips against his, sucking and licking on his skin, until he could barely keep it together. When he ripped off her panties, neither of them cared anymore.

 

There was a brief moment of hesitation, looking for Skye’s consent in her eyes – “God, yes” she breathed out, arching of the couch – and then he slid in. The wave of pleasure that hit him was overwhelming and he had to focus very hard on breathing for a few seconds before he started moving, slow at first and then faster.

 

He could feel Skye’s nails dragging over his back, but he didn’t mind. Her face was all he could see, eyes dark with pleasure, and then his own overwhelmed him and he collapsed on top of her, barely keeping his weight off of her with one arm. She followed suit, clenching around him and squeezing her eyes shut as she rode out her own orgasm.

 

Then, suddenly, they were on the floor. Derek had no idea how it had happened – he was still a little dazed. All he knew was that they were now lying on the ground, limbs hopelessly entangled.

 

Skye blinked. “We fell of the couch.” she said matter-of-factly. He nodded. “I think we did.” She raised one eyebrow. “You really need to get a bigger couch.” she announced. Again, he nodded, and then they both burst into laughter.

 


	61. Sixty

Slowly, they fell into a steady rhythm.

 

Skye spent most of her time at Derek’s loft, because her own apartment felt too filled up with memories and she didn’t really feel safe there anymore. He was steadily growing into his new role as an Alpha, meeting with his mother’s old associates and renewing their treaties and agreements, while Skye spent her days teaching Lydia – who was a surprisingly avid learner – how to use her powers and monitoring the Guardians’ activity (there was virtually none, and as far as she could tell, Leon had really convinced the others that she was dead, because no one seemed to be looking for her anymore).

 

Eli and Savannah came over a lot, and Skye grew to like them as well. Just like Derek had said, they were good people who had only done horrible things because Raina had made them. They couldn’t be blamed, and they were definitely a great addition to Derek’s pack - Eli with his impressive fighting skills and Savannah with her inexhaustible knowledge about herbs and drugs.

 

Skye still dreamed about Ford most nights and awoke trembling in fear, but Derek was always there to hold her and tell her she was safe. Finally, after years of constantly being on the run, of constantly fearing for her life, her life had some sort of steadiness, some routine. It felt good.

 

Until, about a month after Ford’s death, someone knocked on the door of the loft and everything changed again.

 

* * *

 

 

It had taken him longer than he had expected to track Skye down.

 

There were a lot of werewolves in California, and it wasn’t like there was some sort of register for them, so he had slowly moved from town to town, looking for one specific werewolf named Derek. And now here he was, almost a month after his departure from Canada, fingers trembling slightly as he drove into Beacon Hills.

 

He had done his research about the town. It was bustling with supernatural activity, but ever since the residing Alpha, a woman called Talia Hale, had died in a fire set by hunters, no one really seemed to know anymore who called the shots in Beacon Hills. There were some rumors about a teenage Alpha – a true one, though he had absolutely no idea what that meant – with his own pack, but he didn’t care about that. What he did care about, however, was that apparently Talia’s son, Derek Hale, still lived in Beacon Hills. Now all he needed to do was to find out where exactly Derek Hale lived, and hopefully that would lead him to Skye too.

 

The prospect of seeing her again still made him shiver. It felt unreal, but then again, this was the first real clue he had found since he’d found out she was still alive and had started to look for her. He wasn’t about to give up now, not when what he had never dared to hope for was suddenly right at his fingertips.

 

He checked into a cheap motel on the outskirts of Beacon Hills and set up his laptop. Skye had always been a better hacker, but his aunt had taught him some basic skills too – enough to find out that Derek Hale owned a building in the town’s industrial area as well as his family’s old house. He figured that a burned down ruin was an unlikely place to live in, so with a deep breath, he wrote down the building’s address and grabbed his car keys again. 

 

He thought back on his years in the bunker, alone and broken down. Oh, how he wished he hadn’t just given up, that he had looked for Skye earlier. But he had been stupid and desperate enough to believe the man that had told him everyone in the Abernathy house had died in the explosion. Somehow, he hadn’t even considered that that didn’t necessarily mean everyone had been home.

 

He started the car and slowly backed out of the motel’s parking lot. The address was on the other side of town, but the twenty minutes it took him to get there seemed to pass in a blur. He parked his car next to a black Camaro – no sign of Skye’s old dodge, but it wasn’t very likely she had kept the car for all those years – and got out. His hands were trembling hard and he clenched them into fists.

 

The building had apparently been converted into a number of lofts. Most of the doors were chained shut and he didn’t bother knocking on them, but when he had finally made it to the top – the stairs had seemed to last infinitely – he saw that one door wasn’t. Inside, he could hear a voice, male, and then a laugh that seemed to throw him right back in time.

 

Memories flashed in front of his eyes – summers spent in China, sparring against each other in their basement, playing pranks on poor, unsuspecting Audrey – and his blood was pounding in his ears. It had been almost five years since he’d last seen her, but he would still know her laugh, her voice anywhere.

 

 _This is it,_ he thought, his heart racing in his chest. _Oh god, this is it._ Then he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek didn’t recognize the man that stood on the other side of the door. He looked like he was about his age, tall with dark messy hair and an unshaved face, wearing a worn leather jacket and a shirt that looked like it could use a washing. Derek had never seen him before, but something about him felt strangely familiar.

 

“Can I help you?” he asked politely.

 

The man’s mouth twitched. He looked incredibly nervous, and when Derek focused his hearing, he noticed that his heart was racing. “I’m… I’m looking for Skye.” the man said.

 

Immediately, Derek’s brain jumped to conclusions. The man had to be a remaining Guardian, come to avenge Ford’s death or maybe, considering his nervousness, forced by other Guardians to do so. Whatever his motivations, Derek wasn’t going to let him hurt Skye.

 

A low growl started to build up in the back of his throat and he could feel his fangs pushing through the surface, but before he had even made a move towards the man, something shattered behind him and he turned around abruptly.

 

Skye was standing in the middle of the room, her coffee cup in pieces on the floor in front of her. She was staring at the man like she had just seen a ghost. “Oh god.” she gasped. “That’s… that’s not possible.”

 

And then she did something Derek hadn’t seen coming. She pushed past him with a few steps and threw her arms around the man’s neck. He hugged her back immediately, wrapping his arms around her like he was never going to let her go again. “You’re alive.” the man mumbled, almost too quiet even for Derek’s hearing to pick up. “You’re really alive.”

 

Derek just stood there, feeling utterly confused and, frankly, slightly jealous. Whoever this man was, Skye obviously knew him and didn’t consider him a threat – quite the reverse actually. But, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure who this man could be. In all their talks, Skye had never mentioned anyone from her past who was still alive.

 

All he could do was stare at the two of them until Skye pulled away without moving her gaze away from the man. “How the fuck are you here?” she asked. Her voice was trembling and Derek could see tears glinting in her eyes, but she didn’t seem sad. More… relieved? “You’re supposed to be dead.”

 

The man gave a sad smile. “I thought the same about you.” he said.

 

His gaze flickered towards Derek and one of his eyebrows shot up slightly. “Maybe you should introduce me?” he suggested.

 

Skye looked at Derek like she had temporarily forgotten he was there – another pang of jealousy – and then nodded, running one hand through her hair. “Yeah.” she said, taking a deep breath. “Derek, this is Jace.”

 

Another breath, a pause, then: “My idiot big brother.”

 


	62. Sixty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after sixty chapters and about a year, this is it. This is going to be the last chapter of "A Sky Full Of Lightning", even though there's still a little epilogue coming.  
> A big thank you to everyone who favorited, left kudos or commented on my story, and I'd really like it if some of the silent readers would leave some final comment.  
> Thank you for reading my story!

Skye felt like this was a dream. And it had to be, right? Because her brother, her _dead_ brother, was sitting right next to her on the couch, looking a little rugged and tired but very much alive.

 

He was holding a cup of coffee that Derek had wordlessly handed to him but didn’t make any move to drink. The silence around them was almost oppressive but Skye couldn’t bring herself to speak. Inside of her head, the thoughts and questions were running wild. How the hell had Jace survived the explosion that had completely destroyed their house? Where had he been all those years? And why hadn’t he ever tried to contact her? It wasn’t like she had really kept a low profile during the last few years; he had to have heard of her vendetta against the Guardians.

 

It was Jace who finally broke the silence by clearing his throat. “I suppose you want an explanation.” he said and Skye couldn’t help but snort. “You’re damn right I do.” she said. “Where the hell have you been, Jace?”

 

He leaned back with a sigh, running his hand over his face. “Okay.” he said. “I think I should start with how I survived the bomb.” He finally took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “I wasn’t in the house. I think if I had been, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. I was out back checking on our weapon storage. When I heard the explosion, my instincts kicked in. I managed to keep the worst of the debris off of me. I got a few bruises and broken bones, but nothing too serious.”

 

Of course, Skye thought. With Jace’s power of gravity manipulation, it wouldn’t have been too hard to protect himself from the debris. It was just that she had always thought he’d been inside, and like he’d said, even his powers wouldn’t have been able to save him in there.

 

“What then?” she asked. “Where did you go? I was right there, Jace. I talked to the policemen. You were nowhere to be seen. Where the fuck did you go?”

 

He gave her a lopsided grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Honestly, I just tried to get as far away as I could. I thought you were home, Skye. I thought I’d just lost everyone I cared about. I didn’t want to stick around and have to explain to the police how I made it out. It never even occurred to me that someone else could’ve survived until a couple of days afterwards.”

 

Skye bit her lip. Her head was spinning. “But why didn’t you come back then?” she asked. “It wouldn’t have been that hard to find out I was still alive.”

 

Jace’s face grew even sadder. His voice was quiet when he said: “I was hiding out in an abandoned warehouse just out of town. That was where I met another one of us. I’d seen him before, in passing. He told me he was hiding from the Guardians. When I asked him about the bombing, he said that the Abernathys were all gone. I…” His voice cracked and he visibly had to compose himself before he could continue.

 

“I lost hope, Skye.” he muttered. “The fight was over. The Guardians had won. I made it to Canada, found the bunker Dad had always told us about and hid there. I…”

 

Skye interrupted him. Tears were now running down her face, tears of anger and relief and frustration. "The fight wasn’t over, you idiot! I was still out there, I was still fighting! How could you just give up like that? How could you let Ford get away with what he’d done?”

 

Her brother seemed to shrink a little more with each of her words. “I’m so sorry, Skye.” he whispered. “I was a coward and I have never regretted anything more in my life. I should’ve kept fighting, like you did. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But I’m here now. I’ve missed you so much, little sister.”

 

Halfway during his apology, he switched to Chinese, the language their mother had always spoken with them. Skye hadn’t spoken it since her family had died and when she heard it now, realization finally fully hit her. Her brother was alive. He was an idiot and maybe he had acted like a coward, but he was alive and he was here. She hugged him again, even fiercer this time. He smelled like home and childhood and suddenly the hole she always carried inside of her felt a little smaller.

 

When she pulled away, she looked up at him. “I’m still mad at you.” she said. Jace chuckled. “I probably deserve that.” he said.

 

She gave him a tearful grin. “You’re damn right you do, asshole.”

 

* * *

 

 

Skye’s brother stayed well into the evening.

 

The longer he talked the more Derek saw the similarities between him and Skye. They had the same eyes, the same sense of humor and they talked the same way, sometimes switching into Chinese mid-sentence. He found that in spite of his previous surge of jealousy, he liked Jace, and he couldn’t help but feel happy as well at the obvious happiness on Skye’s face.  

 

He remembered what he had felt like when he had found out that Cora was still alive. Of course, that situation hadn’t exactly been ideal – after all, she had been trying to kill him at the time – but still he could remember the overwhelming relief he had felt. With Laura dead and Peter… well, Peter, he’d thought he’d lost everyone. Finding out his little sister was alive had made him tremendously happy, and he imagined Skye felt the same way.

 

When Jace left, it was after midnight. Even though him and Skye agreed to meet again the next morning, Derek could tell that she didn’t want to let him go, as if once she let him out of her sight it would be like this never happened.

 

She flinched when then door fell shut behind him and Derek carefully slid an arm around her shoulders. “You okay?” he asked. Skye looked up at him with a watery smile. “More than okay.” she said. “He’s alive, Derek. My brother’s alive. It’s just…” She hesitated, turning her gaze away, and then whispered: “I can’t really believe it just yet. I feel like it’s only a dream, you know?”

 

Derek nodded and pulled her close. He knew all too well what it felt like to just not be able to believe something good happening for once. “I know.” he mumbled into her hair. “I know, Skye. But I promise, it’s real. All of it.”

 

Skye smiled and reached up to kiss him, her lips impossibly soft against his. When she pulled away, Derek had to fight the urge to pull her right back in for another kiss. “You make me stupidly happy, you know that?” she whispered. A weird warm feeling started to spread inside of him. “Right back at you.” he replied quietly before kissing her again.

 

* * *

 

 

A few miles away, Allison giggled as Scott pressed a kiss to her neck. “Stop it, Scott.” she hissed without really meaning it, and when he did stop, she pulled him in for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

 

Not far from that, Aiden smiled down at Lydia. “Don’t smile like that.” she said. “I’m not saying we’re back together, I’m just saying we’re giving it a try.” “I know.” he replied. “But that’s more than enough for me.”

 

* * *

 

 

In the twins’ apartment, Ethan stared at Danny incredulously. “You knew?” he asked. “All this time? And you don’t mind?” Danny shrugged and gave a lopsided grin. “What can I say? I think fur’s kind of hot.”

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles checked the bottle of whisky in the kitchen, like he had every day since his Dad had quit drinking, and was pleased to find it unopened. He went to bed with no darkness around his heart whatsoever.

 

* * *

 

 

In a motel on the outskirts of town, the realization that his little sister was alive fully hit Jace. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor and promised himself he would never let her slip away again.

 

* * *

 

 

In the same motel, three rooms over, Eli clasped his hand around Savannah’s. She was shaking, drenched in sweat from the nightmare she’d just had. “It’s okay.” he whispered. “We’re okay.” And they really were.

 

* * *

 

 

Isaac, asleep in the McCalls’ guest room, didn’t have a nightmare for the first time he could remember. He slept calmly and soundly and in the morning, Melissa called him and Scott her boys and he felt weirdly warm and fuzzy inside.

 

* * *

 

 

Considerably farther away, Cora Hale pushed her little carry-on suitcase through airport security in Mexico City. The screen overhead read “San Francisco International Airport”, and Cora smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

At the very airport Cora was flying to, Leon boarded a flight to New York, carrying nothing but a burner phone and a wad of cash. He sat next to a pretty blonde who flirted with him and he allowed himself to smile at her silly jokes.

 

* * *

 

 

And at the very same time, in Derek’s loft, Skye kissed him and sank into his arms and thought that maybe she wasn’t so awful at decision-making as her mother had always said.

 

After all, her decisions had led her here. And she didn’t think that there was anywhere she would’ve been happier.


	63. Epilogue

“Ah, fuck, this hurts so fucking much!”

 

Derek took his gaze off the road for one moment to look at Skye, curled up on the driver’s seat, her face contorted in pain. “We’re almost at the hospital.” he said, barely managing to contain his own panic in his voice.

 

Skye shot him a sharp look. “And I’m almost about to squeeze a fucking baby out of my vagina, so drive faster before I strangle you!” He wasn’t sure whether he should be amused or terrified, but he figured it was best not to say anything, so he simply obeyed and drove faster.

 

“God, this is entirely your fault.” Skye murmured between short, labored breaths. “You just had to knock me up, didn’t you?” In spite of his own nervousness, Derek had to bite back a smile. “To be fair, you kind of played a part in that too.”

 

Skye made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a growl. “As much as I love you, fuck off. I… aah.” Her fingers dug into his arm and she squeezed her eyes shut as she breathed through another contraction. Derek hit the gas again, speeding around the last corner to the hospital and pulling into the parking lot.

 

Derek forced himself to take a deep breath as he got out of the car and walked around to open the door for Skye. He didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous before – and sure, he’d been nervous all through Skye’s pregnancy, but this was something else, something big and scary and exciting. They were going to have a baby. He was going to be a dad.

 

“A little help here?” Skye’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts as she tried to wiggle her huge belly out of the Camaro and he grabbed her arm to help her out. “This car still sucks.” she muttered and he smirked slightly. “I thought you think it’s sexy.” Skye gave a breathless chuckle. “It is, but it sucks when you’re pregnant and huge. Also… oh, fuck, there’s another one.”

 

She clenched her hand around his and he could hear her heartbeat speed up. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and took some of her pain, and as soon as her breathing evened out, he gave her a nervous smile. “Come on.” he said. “Let’s go have a baby.”

 

Skye smiled up at him and suddenly all of this didn’t seem so scary anymore. “Let’s have a baby.” she replied.

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek stepped into the hospital waiting room six hours later, he felt like he was about to burst with happiness.

 

He didn’t think his mood could improve further, but it did when he saw who was waiting there. Savannah was dozing with her head on Eli’s shoulder, Cora was lounging in a chair with earbuds in and Isaac and Stiles, both home from their senior year of college, were playing some sort of a card game with Jace – and suddenly he realized something. This bunch of crazy people – they were his family. They weren’t perfect and they didn’t always get along but they were here and they were his family.

 

All of them looked up when he entered. “So?” Cora asked, raising one eyebrow.

 

Derek felt a huge grin splitting his face. “It’s a boy.” he said.

 

* * *

 

 

A few minutes later, all of them were huddled into Skye’s hospital room, gushing over the tiny bundle in her arms.

 

“He’s adorable.” Savannah said, her voice somehow an entire octave higher than usual. “Have you decided on a name yet?” Skye shot him a look, her eyes full of the same overflowing bliss he was still feeling. “Yeah, we have.” she said. “Guys, meet Jacob Hale.”

 

Collective awing filled the room and the smile that hadn’t left Derek’s lips since the nurse had placed a tiny, wiggling newborn in his arms grew wider again. He didn’t think he had ever smiled this much in one day – or smiled this much at all, period.

 

While Skye passed their son – and thinking this word alone made Derek feel like he was floating – to Jace, Cora stepped up next to him. “So” she said quietly “it’s been what now, almost four years? When are you finally going to put a ring on it, bro?”

 

He bit back a smile and thought of his grandmother’s ring that had been sitting in the back of his nightstand for months now. “That’s none of your business.” he said, and his little sister slapped him on the arm hard enough to have left a bruise if he hadn’t been a werewolf, but he didn’t really mind.

 

He had a pack – no, a family. He had a girlfriend who he loved tremendously and who he would hopefully marry someday. He had a son.

 

Life was good.

 

**_The End_ **

 


End file.
